Gambit's Reprise
by paradoxed
Summary: The Giant War ended months ago—but Percy's troubles didn't.
1. Fate's Irony

_In books, as in life, there are no second chances. On second thought: it's the next work, still to be written, that offers the second chance. - Cynthia Ozick_

* * *

Inhale.

Slow, calm.

Exhale.

The sound of his own breathing reverberated in Percy's ears, carried by the heady acoustics of the surrounding icy water. The noise is all too encompassing, accompanied and intensified by the rhythmic beat and rush of his heart and blood. Though there are other noises aplenty: the rasp of shifting plants in the lazy current, the occasional pop/grunt/hum of the few fish still awake (he'd mentally shut them out already), the funny bubbling noises that naiads made while hibernating, and the thrumming laser-esque sound of the ice cracking and creaking.

Breaking the ice sheet over The Reservoir had sounded strange enough on the surface, dispersing synthetic ray-gun sounds long after he'd broken through. The vibrations created by his entry were still echoing through the water a good ten minutes since he'd dove in and reformed the hole he'd made. It was odd, but not annoying.

So with his quasi-heat sensitive vision and some light filtering through the quite-thin ice, he'd found his way to pretty much the center of the reservoir (far from everything else), and then just … floated.

There was that tiny part of him still skittish of drowning, but he mostly got over that feeling after the initial dive. Too much of him still found solace in the ebb and flow of a large body of water to consider his irrational (at least for him) fear. The sea was preferable, but a man-made lake would do.

And he needed that solace, because in the forty minutes it took him to get to Central Park (ten going down the elevator torturing his ears with Apollo's voice and another thirty meandering the streets), he still felt on edge.

The Solstice had been fine. It had been pretty rad for the Romans to be invited this year, and see them mucking about the party. Besides that, there was nothing 'big,' just a few pointless commemorations that Percy had to stand around pretty for because some of the gods (see: Zeus) wanted to still celebrate their victory five months ago. There hadn't even been any award ceremony, though that was a plus in his opinion. He wasn't sure how he could refuse the "any gift" if the Olympians offered again.

Those things hadn't been the issue, no. Nor had been all the curious minor gods and other people around, or the few suckups that tried to kiss up to him or get something out of him.

No, Percy's unease was instinctual - because he knew something was coming between him and Annabeth. He wasn't sure exactly what it was yet - and that made it all the more frustrating. They'd hung out often enough, just about every other day, since summer ended, even though he was still attending Goode and Annabeth was doing some apprenticeship thing with some big-name architect. Everything was enjoyable, pleasant - happy? But his beloved girlfriend was hiding something.

To be fair, he was hiding things too. Various feelings and thoughts he'd been bottling up for at least half a year, if not longer. Probably longer, given his life. The past five years of his life had been one clusterfuck after another, and the two most intense ones had been stacked together in the past year and a half.

Scratch that. Year, because he fucking lost six months because of gods damned Lady "Mother-Knows-Best."

Percy was sure he loved Annabeth, that wasn't an issue. He was certain of that, as certain as he was that Annabeth loved him just as much.

But secrets had begun to crop up after the end of the Giants. They meshed along wonderfully before - before all that crap. But now that feeling was starting to go away, ever so slowly.

Most recently, within maybe the past month, it more felt like they were meeting up for more routine than anything else. That they weren't interested in sharing anything about what had been going on with their lives much, just hanging out together for the sake of it, not because they really _wanted_ to. Or at least, want as much.

He'd … enjoyed it nonetheless? But it had also been vaguely uncomfortable to the extreme, with a palpable tension sitting on his spine.

Percy sighed plaintively, disturbing the water around him. He missed the symbolic hair 'highlight' they shared. Things were so much simpler back then.

Everything had come to head a few hours ago. They hadn't met for a week prior to the Solstice. They'd still Iris-Messaged plenty but didn't actually spend time with each other face to face. It'd been short little 'hey Seaweed Brain how you doing?'s that didn't lead anywhere.

And then he'd thought it was just sorta _said_ that they would be going to the Solstice together. But of course, then Annabeth seemed a touch irritated when they'd met up outside the gates of the palace. She hadn't said anything explicitly, but he could tell by the way she eyed him before she realized he was paying attention.

Then she'd offered to guide all the rest of the Seven around Olympus, in part because they'd never been there before and in part to show off her work (and it was indeed architecture worth showing off). It was at that point he realized he didn't really want to go along. He just … was too tired. Of Olympus. Of the mythological world. Of Annabeth, of school, of life.

So he'd given his friends a goodbye, kissed Annabeth goodnight (she seemed resigned), and left.

Percy hadn't wanted to return home immediately, though.

He wanted to just go out and wallow and sulk until he got all the emo out of his system. If it got out of his system. But he couldn't stand being like this, he wasn't normally like this. He needed to reset.

Now he was here, in the depths of a lake in the middle of the night.

Well, he'd been through weirder things.

And while thinking wasn't his preferred activity - instinct was his lifeblood - he had to in order to solve this problem.

Here in the mostly quiet - except there was a new noise, and he couldn't tell what was making it. Some kind of sliding, almost _grating_ , constant and _right above hi_ -

CRRKK.

A massive groan thundered, and the force pulsed down into the water and through his body. It wasn't massive, more akin to a slightly too loud bass from someone turning up their radio too much, but it shocked Percy out of his reverie.

What kind of idiot would skate on thin ice?

Percy propelled himself upward, even as the creaking sound continued, even louder. It was hard to see amongst the splashing and rippling, but the struggling by whoever it was up there was all too obvious.

Nearing the surface, Percy reassessed the situation - the person was floundering far too much to just grab hold and push back up and was beginning to sink further. So with nary another thought, he willed the water to spit the person back out and followed whoever it was on the ice.

Well, considering wet clothing clinging to skin and curves and all, it was a girl. Certainly one with spirit, as she was already trying to get up, even if she was still a bit thrown and falling over again.

Naturally, before whoever she was could fall on her face and break the ice again, Percy came to rescue her. He aimed to grab her hands, but she'd extended them to shield herself and he couldn't reach. Instead, he locked his hands at her waist and righted her.

A second later, barely even having found her footing, the girl clawed her way out and knocked him back. A flash of light from somewhere too fast to tell blinded him, and then pain lanced through his side.

"Shit! What in Hades was that for?" He yelped, blinking quickly to clear his eyes and focused on using the residue water around to heal whatever bruise the crazy person made. So much for the rescue instincts he'd developed while working as a lifeguard at a local pool if that was what he got.

"Don't -" The girl gasped for a proper breath, shuddering too obvious in her voice. A beat too late, she awkwardly finished with her sentence off in a (was that surprised?) hiss. "Touch me …"

"No need to try and push me into the water too." Percy snarked, looking up to meet the girl's eyes. They're strange - very bright, sorta blue, but not a natural color? It's hard to tell in just the light of the full moon, as luminous as it was. Slightly taken aback, his tone softened. "I was just trying to help, uhm, miss."

If anything, though, she was equally confused, and now completely quiet, staring into his eyes quite unnervingly. "Uhm … ?" He paused, cocking his head in confusion. "I was trying to get a name there."

She tsked and turned sharply away to the side, her dark hair and silver blouse fluttering into the air. Since she wasn't answering, Percy took the moment to observe the ungrateful … woman? She seemed about his age, really, even if she was maybe six inches shorter than him. Her skin was as pale as bone in contrast to her black leggings, and was she wearing moccasins? She was probably cold as all hell, with how little she was wearing. Maybe she liked the cold, but if he hadn't dried her off when he'd pulled her upright a moment ago, she would've been shivering.

Of course, with how rude she had already been, it was no surprise she ignored his question to ask her own, not even bothering to introduce herself. Not that it mattered too much. With her porcelain skin and silver clothing and the moon above, he already had half a nickname in mind. "Why are you not at the celebration?"

"How do you know about -" Percy began askancely, before realization dawned. "Oh. You're not mortal." He facepalms, rubbing some feeling back into his face. "Herp derp, I'm dumb. How else would I have got hurt? I thought you accidentally ripped a hole in my shirt while trying to stand or something."

"Clearly." She straightened defiantly, and Percy decided to just keep quiet. She seemed quite pushy … "Well?"

"Oh - question, right, right. I left right after all the awards," muttered the Son of the Sea, "Wanted some quiet time. Annabeth and I -" A frown flashed across his face as he thought of Annabeth again. Well, if the girl knew who he was, then she probably knew of Annabeth too. "Well, never mind - Annabeth is showing off her work to the rest of the Seven, so I slipped out."

The girl's brow furrowed in thought, and far be it him to know what she was thinking about. Though what was she doing here exactly? "Back at you, then. Why're you down here?" Percy frowned fully this time. "Whoever you are. You still haven't given me your name."

The girl looked back to him, and after a moment's consideration, she answered. "Luna."

And that only solidified his hunch. Percy was pretty sure the girl wasn't a Hunter, but the vibe of the Hunt was one hundred percent there from the silver blouse and somewhat aggressive personality. There was even the outdoorsy feel from the shoes. And with the root meaning of her name (Percy blamed English class, though Luna was pretty damn recognizable), it seemed all the more fitting. "And for the same reason."

He looked to the ice beside them, and with a thought pushed it to freeze over once more. What to say, then? She said she also wanted quiet time, so maybe he should leave? But Luna seemed to want to talk, given the thoughts running wild behind her bluish eyes. And maybe a talk with someone would distract him a bit. Not to mention that he was kinda curious about her: who was she, to be out away from the solstice hanging out in the middle of The Reservoir?

"Hey, Luna. Why not hang out and talk a bit?" Percy suggested. She didn't respond, so he reached out to tap her shoulder. Remembering her earlier reaction to his touch, though, he hesitated. Her little … outburst had been the other thing that had reminded him of the Hunt. So he framed his words carefully. "Plenty of time and space to share, both of us not being at the party and all. And … and why not meet someone new, make new friends?"

She shrugged (in assent?) and walked forward, her words giving a more proper, no, very proper answer, "Let us find a more comfortable venue first."

Before she could take another step, Percy put his hand on her shoulder. Luna turned and glared, but he waved it off with a quick smile and let go. "Sorry, it's just that you're heading towards fragile ice." He moved past her and nudged the ice in front of them, which creaked in response. "How about I take point?"

After contemplating his point, she nodded and he took lead, a little amused that Luna was literally about to make the exact same mistake. She carefully trailed behind him, following his footsteps exactly as he took the most efficient path off the ice. He gave a few warnings of where not to step, but largely said nothing else. Eventually they make it back to solid earth, the small layer of snow crunching satisfyingly beneath his feet.

He continued on, though. There were park tables not too far away, which would be better than standing around. All along the way, he mulled over what they could possibly talk about, what they could do.

Reaching the desired tables, Percy cleared away the snow with a sweep of his arm, receiving a nod in thanks. Making another spot for himself, he sat, slightly hunched forward and prepared to engage in … something. But Luna is silent, regarding him with an intensity that's a bit disquieting.

What is she looking for? He was dressed up somewhat for the Solstice, with the buttoned shirt and khakis bit. It probably would've been more uptight if he wore fancy shoes, but he'd only worn sneakers (Piper's advice to "not look like a stuffy old man or business person"). Percy felt like her eyes had lingered on his hair for a good while, but why?

After a few minutes, he couldn't take it anymore. "I feel like you probably know a bit about me already - since you recognized me, and all." He ruffled the back of his head absently with his left hand, a touch embarrassed and unsure. "But let me introduce myself properly. Perseus Jackson, Son of Poseidon. Though feel free to call me Percy."

He extended his hand to her to shake, which she seemed to assess the pros and cons of before reaching out. "Luna … Luna Anson."

Hm? No background?

"Where from?" he asked. He couldn't remember ever seeing anyone like her in Camp Half Blood. Even with a good number of new campers since the gods' promise, he would've recognized a face like hers. Like, sure, she was physically attractive, but that wasn't the reason. Besides the oddly colored eyes, there was simply something _distinct_ about her.

"New Rome. Legacy," she responded, looking a bit confused at the line of questioning.

"Really?" It was the logical conclusion that she was Roman if she wasn't Greek, but he hadn't seen any of the branding or symbols on her forearm, which was completely exposed because she was wearing a blouse. Nonetheless, he checked again, glancing down to her forearm - and nope, unblemished. Looking back to her eyes, though, she seemed a touch irritated. "No service?"

"What?" Yep, Luna was definitely a bit tetchy now.

"Service. Y'know-" he pulled up the sleeve on his left arm to demonstrate the permanent brand he'd received. He'd always wanted a tattoo, yes, but it probably wouldn't have been a trident, a bunch of letters, and a line. At the very least, Luna seemed to understand his point and not think him a pervert for looking 'down.'

She hummed, features, softening, a now considerate look on her face before answering. "There were certain medical issues when I was younger that I'd rather not talk about, so I wasn't allowed to be recruited into the legion."

Oh. Well, that kinda got uncomfortable quick. "Sorry … sorry for asking. But legacy, huh? Of whom?"

"Jupiter." Her response clipped short, clinical and exact.

"So was that a lightning bolt you hit me with earlier then? You have amazing reflexes for someone who's never been in the legion." She'd pulled out of his hold immediately after being disoriented and launched an attack, after all. With that in mind, Percy added another comment. "And no worries about that - I'm fine, my bad for scaring you."

With that in mind, Luna tilted her head just slightly and shot him a critical look before answering. "No, just some sorcery. Still, I must apologize for wounding you."

"Seriously, no biggie," Percy repeated, pointing to his side. "Healed fine, so no problems."

"Then, my apologies for damaging the shirt."

Oh, crap. When Percy had mentioned he'd wanted to wear something new but couldn't find anything that he could buy with his own money, Jason had offered to lend him something to wear (and with Jason as he was, he had plenty of formal stuff). "Uhm, that might be a bit more of a problem, 'cause I kinda borrowed this from a friend."

"Hm … let me make up for it, then." Luna leaned over the table and reached out, not quite touching but very close. After a slight glow, she pulled away, and the hole was gone.

"Thanks, Luna." Percy smiled gratefully. Jason probably would've just shrugged off the damage (only after Percy explained it to him and got laughed at), but returning something damaged was bad form.

The edges of her lips curled upward, a spot of light color appearing on her cheeks.

… A beat passed.

"So what brings you brought you to Olympus then?" he continued, before backtracking. "Not that I'm trying to say that you aren't important enough or anything. Just that … I thought only those part of the war was invited."

Luna rolled her eyes, as if the answer was so obvious that he shouldn't have missed it. "All of New Rome would never miss a party this big."

"Well, considering … this," Perseus gestured to himself and the cold and wet snow around them. "I think you're missing the party right now."

Biting her lip, she looked up to the bare tree branches (thank the gods the dryads were hibernating) before giving her answer. "I don't enjoy big social events."

"Then why did you come at all?" Sure, Romans loved parties, invented parties, whatever, but Luna literally just admitted she didn't enjoy the literal definition of a party. Stuff like the monthly "Seven" parties didn't count - they were more get-togethers than actual parties. Why was she already contradicting herself?

"I wanted …" She began, searching for the right way to answer. "I wanted to see the heroes."

That kinda sorta made sense. A touch of fan worship wasn't anything new, and only half of the Seven were at Rome, less if you counted the unofficial demigods involved. "I guess you couldn't have met many because you're a civilian? But why so interested?"

This time she answered readily, prepared for his line of questioning. "You guys saved the world. Twice, in your case. Is that not reason enough?"

Wait, what? Most Romans didn't know about his previous adventures, let alone the _other_ fucking Great Prophecy he'd been involved with. "What makes you think I've done it twice?"

"Rumors and stories travel fast. Is it true you denied immortality after the Titan War?" She asked, a dab of impatience coloring her tone.

"So you've heard that too? Damn." Percy's lips tightened as he tried to comprehend how some person he'd never met before knew so much about him. Sure, some other demigods knew quite a bit about his escapades, but that was because they'd been in Camp Half Blood, being either heroes he'd grown up with, or hearing about him because of his adventures. He hadn't imagined that Romans would have known so much about him, even if the two camps were sort of integrating.

"Yep." Percy finally answered, popping the p. He traced an ocean wave into the snow piled on the table to occupy himself. How could he respond to that?

"Why?"

He looked up to see her eyes following his drawing. When she reached the not yet end of where his finger was, she looked up to meet his gaze. Her silvery eyes are glittering with curiosity, too much interest compared to his own reticence for the topic.

Of course she asked that question. "I ask that myself sometimes."

Luna sat back, a confused look on her face, so Percy stopped fidgeting to think things over. Maybe someone unknown could maybe provide a fresh take, someone who he couldn't predict how they would answer already. Because despite her earlier self-contradictions, Percy got the general vibe that Luna was trustworthy. And besides maybe disillusioning one person who thought that being a hero was 'all that,' nothing he was going to share was really that personal.

So he began his explanation. "So - well, the big thing is … where best to start? You know the prophecy, right? For what happened last summer?"

She nodded, gaze sharp and resolute. "Yes. Seven half-bloods shall answer the call, etc."

He had to go before that, though. Things didn't really start there, though it was when the … _issue_ became apparent. "Was there some prophecy in your Siba-whatchamacallit books that talked about you guys taking down Mount Othrys?"

"Just a few lines about the stars falling," admitted Luna, clearly not giving it much consideration or weight or importance. "And Sibylline is the right term for it."

Percy brushed the correction off with a wave of his hand. "Well, there was one about me that you probably didn't hear about, even if you know about my other … accomplishments, since you're Roman and all. At the same time, Jason took down the star guy, Khios? Or was it Krios? Met him in Tar- … Tartarus, I think."

He trailed off as memories he didn't … didn't _want_ made themselves known. He quickly shook his head and pushed on, not wanting to lose himself. "Anyways, there was a prophecy about 'a half blood of the eldest gods' reaching 16 years old that defined my life. Olympus to preserve or raze. I won't ever forget it."

Percy gazed off over Luna's shoulder, feeling exhausted to the bone. He couldn't avoid all the memories. Though those weren't as bad … were somewhat faded. Percy rubbed the bridge of his nose to stave off everything unwanted and pressed on to his point. "Athena asked me the exact same question you did. Literally right after the battle. Well, after the ceremony that was after the battle."

"At the time, I knew for certain. I wanted to live life. Spend time with my friends, like a normal teenager. Have a relationship." He'd imagined peace, his life getting better somehow, having a future and a family. "I was finally free of the Great Prophecy. I don't suppose you understand what that's like? All that pressure? And then, poof - all of it, gone?"

"No, I wouldn't," Luna answered curtly.

No, she wouldn't. How would she, having lived as an almost normal kid in New Rome? That place had looked like the perfect solution to how he wanted to live life - before things had … soured.

"So tell me what you know of the Prophecy of Seven," Percy prompted, looking at her directly again.

"Did I not already demonstrate knowledge of the prophecy? And how will that help in this conversation? What does it have to do with my question?" Well wasn't she a snarky piece of work? Though she really was responding differently than anyone he'd met before. Whatever perspective she provided could be just as new.

Percy sighed. She was a bit headstrong, but he could deal with that. He had before, with Zöe, after all. And he could be friends with someone like that. Well, he hoped the Hunter had considered him a friend by the end … quite honestly, Luna really reminded him of Zöe. "Just trust me."

For a moment, it seemed as if Luna was going to refuse and storm off. Only for a moment, before whatever odd light behind her eyes calmed, and she answered. " _Seven half-bloods shall answer the call / To storm of fire, the world must fall / An oath to keep with a final breath / And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death._ One of the few full prophecies decipherable in the Sibylline Books."

He blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected her to recite it verbatim. Prophecies were a bit more well known in New Rome, though. "So you Romans have had that prophecy for centuries. No, millennia, right? But the thing is, we got that literally an hour after I'd finished the one involving me."

Luna tilted her head, not understanding. "Your point is?"

Actually, when he thought about it, the prophecy existing so long was an even bigger middle finger, but it didn't change anything about the overall problem. "Well, how much of it was really my choice that I didn't become immortal?"

"Wait … how did you get from the prophecy to there?"

Percy winced and tried to smile through the festering emotions in his gut. "Sorry. My train of thought kinda went from A to Z with no stops in between there. I blame ADHD."

"So, there I was, right after the end of the first prophecy, thinking my life is set to be wonderful. Mom and Paul getting on brilliantly, Annabeth is as great as ever, and Camp's improving." His smile softened with a ghostly wistfulness, before disappearing without a trace. "Then this prophecy I've just learned of a few months ago, something actually predicted two thousand years ago, takes away eight months of my life."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, hands flexing into claws and he restrained his emotions. "Her Majesty Hera decided it's best for me to lose almost a year of what by all means should be some of the best times of my life."

For all that that bloody goddess had made him suffer, that - that event had begun the end. Pulling him away from the peace he'd earned, from Annabeth, thrown straight back and down into literal torture … even if it was all _destined_ , blaming Hera was at least _something_. "So it makes me wonder what would've happened if I'd chosen to become a god. Or if it was really a choice in the first place, you know?" His smile returned, wry, self-deprecating. "Don't suppose that answers your question?"

"You told me to trust you earlier, but I'm still not seeing the connection. What is the relevance of all this other information?" Her voice was oddly soft and accusing at the same time, on one hand trying to be gentle yet on the other also push him. Somehow understanding, yet relentless.

It was helping. It wasn't giving him room to angst, it was forcing him to deal.

"Sorry, sorry. I know I'm not being very clear - I'm not really good at explaining." The demigod sighed for what felt like the hundredth time. He really needed to get himself together so he could make more sense. "I've thought things through before, but it's really hard to put into words. The things I just talked about is related, but not really on point. Just … alright. I know my original reasons. My question is, does it really matter?"

"Why would they not?" Luna answered the rhetorical question.

"I was destined to be part of the Seven." Established fact, because _fuck destiny, could he get a break, please?_ "But if I was a god, I couldn't have been. Gods can't quest."

And with that premise -

"There are only two things to consider at that point." He held up a single finger, his eyes haunted as he stared through the woman who had dragged out his turmoil. "Either I had the choice, and could've screwed over the world by not being part of the quest or something. But that's not possible, because I had to be part of the quest. So -"

Before he could raise his other finger, Luna's face lit with understanding and finished his sentence, answering the question she'd posed herself. "-So you never really had a choice. You were never going to accept godhood."

"I was doomed to not accept, and then go through all the schist that Hera would put me through right after," Percy concluded, back slouched in defeat. "My choice to not accept didn't even matter, and there was no fate I was defying. It was inevitable that things would happen the way they did … like, fuck, is there any other way that I can see this?"

It was circular logic he couldn't escape.

"And then, insult added to injury - it's not even like the war against the Titans, which was since World War II. That, I could take. Oh, born to Poseidon _so of course I have to deal with all that crap_. But this Prophecy of Seven, which I originally thought I never had to deal with in my lifetime, ends up to be two thousand - _two thousand -_ years old, and dictates my near death." He paused, thinking. "Though, I guess it was fated that I would live, eh?"

Percy laughed bitterly, trying to swallow the other emotions welling up within him and failing. "And all the things I've had to deal with, that everything I've suffered through, and" - he swallowed - "and am suffering through was, is, going to happen no matter what. I was always going to choose to remain mortal. So why in Hades would my choice matter?"

His last question abruptly ends his tirade, hanging grotesquely in the air. He hadn't really expected all of it to come out so … ugly. But what essentially was the _backbone_ of all Greek mythology, of his life, after failing to screw him over once, succeeded the second time. Because while he lived, and most of his friends lived … he wasn't the same. Things weren't the same. Annabeth wasn't the same.

Everything looked the same, and tried to act the same. But things had fundamentally changed because fate had fucked over his life. He couldn't blame Annabeth, he couldn't really even blame Hera, he couldn't blame the fucking sock-knitting grandmas, either - because when it came down to it, he knew they were just as subject to destiny as him.

What in the world could he feel besides _weak_ , knowing that nothing he decided mattered because it was fated? And that therefore he didn't matter, because nothing he did mattered, and that feeling this way didn't matter because he was _doomed_ to feel this way, and it was all inevitable, and-

"Why are you telling me this? We've just met." Luna's melodic voice cut through his thoughts, having finally found their ground.

The hero shrugged, trying to get out of his own head. "You asked." He tilted his head. "And - I guess, as sad as it is, it's so much easier talking to someone you don't even know well about these things. Sort of like a psychologist? No, a psychiatrist. Gotta pay money to talk about the stuff screwing with your head with a stranger rather than friends and family."

He'd lied to himself earlier. It was ridiculously personal information that he revealed, private information he somehow felt more comfortable sharing with a virtual stranger than the people close to him. So, exactly like a psychiatrist. And his problem wasn't a mental illness or anything (though he was a bit surprised he doesn't have one with all the shit he's gone through; that, or he was in denial).

It was … an existential worry that literally undercut his entire life, that he hadn't expected to face and made him feel so helpless utterly _helpless_.

It was out now, and somehow he felt better for it.

"You really have not even talked about this with your friends or family?" asked Luna, wide silver eyes betraying her disbelief.

Percy immediately ran through the laundry list of reasons he'd used to justify his silence. "What am I supposed to tell them? Oh, what do you think would have happened if I wasn't there for the quest?" He snorted at the dark thought. "The entire thing was bad enough already."

"Not even your girlfriend?"

This time, he laughed outright, rueful and sarcastic. "Oh, that's even _better_ , Luna. Let me just ask Annabeth what she thinks about me never getting together with her by becoming immortal. Especially with what's been going on. Of abandoning her, after, after everything, after all we've gone through together. Not being there with her in Tartarus. Great idea that would be."

He shut up after that outburst, not wanting to let out all of his acerbic thoughts. Of his fears, post-Tartarus, of events and issues from that twenty-four hour how many day long nightmares that had yet to be resolved.

Hesitantly, Luna asked another question. "Well … what do you expect for me to do for you?"

Percy's stared at her, eyes as empty as he felt. Did he even know what he wanted? What he thought would come of this? Desperation and depression and repression made people do stupid things. "I expect to … hear a different perspective."

His trance broke when he noticed that Luna was shivering, hands buried in the folds of her clothing. As miserable as he was, manners and courtesy and routine made themselves known. "Are you cold? Damn, I left my jacket at -"

"I'm fine. Forget what I can do already?" With half of a gesture, a fashionable combat white jacket shimmered into existence before her. While she slipped it on, Percy slipped away from the table and stood up.

"Let's keep moving, hm?" He stretched up, hands extended to the moon above to wake up his frozen muscles. "To keep warmed up. I've heard walking helps with thinking, too."

Luna looked at him contemplatively, then fell into step next to him. He walked slower this time, passively strolling and not heading anywhere in particular. Percy distracted himself as long as he could, balancing his speed with hers as to not be ahead or behind her, a minigame to ensure he was neither leading or following.

But eventually, it wasn't good enough to avoid anymore. At least he'd managed to remain pretty quiet for a good five if not ten minutes, and Luna didn't seem in a hurry to leave or anything … surely she would say something. He'd been impatient enough, he wanted to hear - something, some response at least. "Well?"

It's another minute before he hears her whisper in response. "Give me more time to think."

"No problem." In-hale, ex-hale, slowing down. Fair was fair, he'd unloaded a lot onto her to process. He could wait. He didn't want to wait, but it made sense to. So he waited, and watched.

It was during Luna's preoccupation with whatever in her thoughts that he really _looked_ at her. Because in the moment she gazed up at the stars and moon above, she became achingly familiar.

While the distant and hostile temperament reminded Percy of Zöe, it was while Luna watched the skies that he remembered Calypso. It wasn't the talent with clothing or anything, it was that Luna looked effortlessly radiant without even caring or noticing. Luna seemed to glow in the long shafts of moonlight falling between the bare tree branches above.

If they became friends after this mess, Percy had the perfect nickname for her.

They were passing by The Reservoir again when she finally spoke. "So … in a nutshell, you think everything is predetermined?"

"What else _can_ I believe?" The hero mutters bitterly. It was a bit of a fancy word for it, but yes.

"But does that truly invalidate your purpose behind your decisions?" Luna asked, eyes finally leaving the heavens to look at him.

It was then that Percy looked away, stopping as they stood before an ancient-looking and empty maple tree. "What does it matter how I feel if my choices are already made?"

If Luna was surprised by the sudden stop, it didn't show as she gracefully spun to lean against the tree and face him properly. After a moment of reconsideration, she posed a different question. "What did you ask for instead of immortality?"

Percy looked at her doubtfully. "Where are you going with this?"

She rolled her eyes dramatically, contempt all too clear. "How about you trust me this time?"

Well … "Fair enough." Percy ceded. Turning about, he plopped down onto the pile of snow next to the tree (and her) and stared up at the stars. "I asked for all the gods to recognize all of their children. Couldn't just let everything happen again, y'know? Kronos - Saturn, is Kronos Saturn to you? - Saturn had so many demigod followers only because the gods didn't do that before. Though I guess that was fated to happen too, eh?"

"And why do you believe the gods would do that?" Luna questioned.

With a shrug, he pushed the snow around him away. "Gods can change."

She chuckled disturbingly, dark humor alight in her laugh. "No, they can't."

"What?" Percy bolted upright, all too disturbed by her casual dismissal. "They've kept their promise. They swore on the River Styx!"

"Well, for one, so what if they swore on the River Styx? That promise doesn't mean anything anymore. When's the last time a god has been punished for breaking a pact on the Styx?"

And he couldn't remember a single time a god was held responsible for their oath. Sure, gods were punished - one only had to ask how Hera was doing or where Apollo was to know. But for oaths? Father hadn't been punished for him, and Zeus's punishment was not so much on him but as on Thalia. And before that, in mythology - was there a time people or gods were punished? It was supposed to be some sacred thing, but he didn't even know what the punishment _was_.

"You were born despite the Big Three's oath. Considering that of all things …" Luna paused again, savoring her words. "Your faith is truly remarkable."

Well wasn't that just fucking wonderful? Percy struggled to hold in his turmoil. He could feel the water in the reservoir churn against the ice, and a not so gentle breeze whipped by his sleeves. "Then - then was all that for nothing?"

"That wasn't really my point. Some of the gods are definitely too honorable not to keep their oath." Luna said hurriedly. "The point I'm trying to make is that gods don't change. My f- ancestor, Zeus, has been the source of just about every issue in Greek mythology because of his inability to keep his libido from acting up, and he was first to break the non-childbirth oath. He's certainly going to be one of the first to forget about the new oath you made them swear. And why do you think there was a Greek and Roman divide in the first place?"

"Well, isn't that proof in the first place that the gods can change?" Hades, what was the point of this crap? All she was doing was triggering him further.

"No, it proves that they can't. If that were true, then there would only be Roman demigods, and there would be no Greeks. If there was just a smooth change, then there would be no distinction. The two aspects of the gods are completely separate, even if similar." Luna's cold logic wasn't helping.

"Well, what does that have to do with whether my fate could be - like, that I'll be turned into some guinea pig on a tropical island and that I can do nothing about it?" What then, if he'd been stuck on Circe's island forever? Fuck all his life that way, whatever happened, _it wasn't him in control_.

"Simply that if you believe in fate, you wouldn't believe that gods can change." Luna sighed and slid down the tree to sit next to him while still leaning on the tree. "The path of mortal lives are set, and the gods are the same for all time."

"That doesn't help with whether everything will happen no matter what I do about it!" Percy argued, fists clenched and movements jerky as he pushed up to also lie against the maple. What did gods and immortals have to do with fate? They were the ones in _power_ , they were the ones who could change things if they so desired.

Luna took a deep breath, also trying to hold in her frustration. "Well, how about this? Why do you think there are three Fates?"

Wait … it had been a short little thing, something half remembered from the sheer adrenaline rush after beating the giants. "I forgot about that!" Percy twisted to stare at her, startled. "But … how did you know about that?"

"Know about what?" She looked back at him, wide-eyed and innocent.

"No way that that's common information," accused Percy, suspicious. Zeus had been the one to say that, while Hera had gone and screwed with him. Zeus, who tried to fight against prophecy by closing down Olympus.

"What? That there are three Fates? That's _basic_. But if you know where I'm going with this, I'm not in the legion, remember? I've spent so much of my time in the library that I'm an assistant there now. I've found lots of obscure knowledge there over the years. Where the hell did you learn that information?"

"I guess…" He relaxed again, slouching back to the snow. He wasn't really angry at her - he was more angry at himself for ever forgetting that little idea, because just the thought of it was changing his whole conception of the idea of fate. "So, you're saying that there was always the option that I could have screwed over the world, then?"

"Or, Perseus, maybe you still would've been sent to New Rome and lost your immortality the same way you lost the curse of Achilles. Or the prophecy might've actually been about some other demigods in the far future, because there weren't seven suitable heroes. Or your Oracle could've given a completely different Great Prophecy, and the Prophecy of Seven would have been saved for another generation. Who knows? The past is set. You cannot change what happened."

In other words, fate defined in hindsight. It wasn't exact, maybe things were fated but that was no guarantee of what was to happen. Foresight wasn't fate.

Her last sentence was said without vehemence, without the force and will that had been behind all her other words, and it surprised him that he hadn't noticed that they had been there until their absence. "Your choice did make a difference."

Somehow, a laugh found its way out of him. "So you're telling me I could have screwed everyone over. Or became a god, and left everyone I knew. That's actually comforting, in a strange way. Thanks."

Percy shifted forward, collapsing back onto the snow. He laid there, embracing the cold, relishing it - it was sharp, immediate, at the front of his mind. A relief.

It wasn't the answer that could solve all his problems, but it was the dam well best he would get.

"Well, I can offer more than that - you're so very concerned about prophecies? Have you forgotten the Oracle of Delphi is hidden away again? Not only that, the Prophecy of Seven was the only undamaged prophecy left unfulfilled in our available pages of the books. All the remainders are just indecipherable scraps of paper." Luna gave him an indecipherable look, of compassion and sympathy and … Hades knew what else. "Your worries are … unsubstantiated, with how everything is now."

Percy turned to her, beaming crookedly. "Dam, Luna, where have you been all this time? I could've used hearing that months ago!"

All of it, months ago, before he fell into this stupor. Before the whisper of doubt had manifested itself in his head, before now. But late was better than never.

"It's nothing," Luna answered, blushing lightly. "But … then why did you deny immortality?"

He deflated slightly, not having expected her … persistence in finding the answer to the question she'd first asked. "I guess I owe you the answer - I didn't want to leave Annabeth," - though that was going wonderfully at the moment. Still, he forced another smile on his face (it was honest enough), to which Luna returned a smaller one. "But no, that was definitely not nothing. Gods be damned, I feel … free, now! I owe you for that. Anything - anything you want? That I can do for you?"

"No, no, what? It's fine," she protested, waving her hands.

"C'mon, Luna. There's at least _something_ ," Percy insisted, sitting up properly again. In the spark of the moment, he gathered some snow behind his back, out of her sight. "Nothing at all? Really?"

"Nothing," repeated Luna.

"Well, I guess I could always just make this a night to remember." Not that it wasn't memorable enough, but Percy could make it stand out just a little more. A flex of his mind and the ball formed; pat and perfect.

"Wha-?" He turned and threw - not very hard, as they were so close - which was good since it smacked her on the cheek. Another snowball was launched at her stomach as he dashed away, not giving her a chance to speak.

It wasn't until the third one that she dodged and tore after him, not so dainty bare hands already packing a snowball.

He wouldn't have resorted to extreme measures if her aim hadn't been so _good_. Every snowball she threw seemed to land, as best as he tried to dodge. He didn't even have the time to duck down and grab more snow before being hit again. After a few more minutes of trying to gather snow properly while being pelted by stings (Luna wasn't using much snow, preferring smaller projectiles that could be made and thrown faster), he took off to the wooded area for a bit more cover.

He'd started it, so he had to win it.

So he began forming snowballs with a thought, covering his retreat with a few volleys of snow in Luna's general direction. Of course, all of them missed, and he was nailed in the back for his efforts.

A glance back when he reached the treeline showed Luna simply grabbing the snowballs he'd oh so conveniently handed at her to throw at him - he ducked as one of said snowballs hurtled towards his head. Here he had cover, though, so he took the time it took for Luna to advance to throw a few more well-placed shots. Projectile weapons had never been his forte, but he was good enough after five years of practice or so.

Still, when Luna made it past her territorial disadvantage, the tables quickly turned. He'd crept further into the forest to reassess, only to find that he had completely lost the enemy position. It was at that moment a barrage of snowballs landed on top of his head, and he turned to find Luna fifteen feet up a tree and another snowball in his face.

Up there, her movement was restricted, though, so he managed to land a few shots in revenge before she dropped down. The process of that repeated three more times, until the point where Luna would simply take advantage of him looking up in the branches when she was crawling behind the bushes and vice versa.

At that point he abandoned the woods, heading for the nearest playground, giving him his own opportunity to reach the high ground. Of course, he was soon enough driven away from there too, by a bookworm non-legion girl somehow able to best him in combat. Sure, it was a snowball fight, but he was still losing.

Well, if he couldn't take advantage of the environment constructed around them, he would have to make his own. Taking a few more shots to his back, Percy ran to the open ground by the shore, quickly followed by a gleeful Luna. He fell to the ground, laughing and pretending exhaustion. The moment she was close enough, though, he swept his hands up to the sky, focusing as his gut twisted. The snow around them rose, two feet of snow decreasing to a few inches as the snowfall is frivolously sculpted into six foot high walls, a minuscule version of what he remembered as the Labyrinth. There were gates and pathways and dead ends, and they were in the midst of it.

The complexity and unfamiliarity, along with the lack of ability to see and analyze the environment, evened the battle. It was a game of cat and mouse, trying to ambush each other (Luna walked _really_ quietly, even on snow), leading to wild chases and disengages. It finally felt like he was landing as many shots as she was landing since the beginning of the battle. There was even a moment where he'd managed to predict where she was and decided to play even crazier rather than approach her from an obvious direction. In a quick hit and run, he ran straight through the wall, dropping a wave of snow on her before making his escape, whooping the entire way.

Of course, the second time he tried that, she anticipated the ambush and dodged, before grabbing him and redirecting his face into the next wall. And then, while he was still disoriented by the sudden faceful of snow, Luna dumped more of the stuff down the back of his shirt before taking off laughing.

It was at that point he made a full retreat back over the lake, forming one last wall to hide behind while Luna stayed on land. She didn't follow, though, perhaps trying to prevent him from attempting any more tricks. So after a few more half-hearted shots from both sides, he shouted over the short no man's land. "Truce?"

"Truce!" He heard back.

But as he dismissed the ice wall, one last snowball splattered on his face. He spluttered in shock, Luna giggling as he quickly wiped it away. When it was completely gone, he chuckled good-naturedly before admitting, "I deserved that."

"Yes, you did," she agreed, before making her way to him on the ice. "I enjoyed myself, though, Perseus, so thank you. And how do you know how to control snow?"

"You're welcome, bu-" Before he can finish his warning, the sheet under her cracked. Dashing forward, he caught her once again before she could slip under. He blushed - she felt all too warm in his arms, especially after all the exercise they'd performed in the past who-knew-how-long.

"You're welcome for that too," Percy snickered. "Again. Lemme just make sure that doesn't happen again, though."

He let her distance herself promptly, remembering her disdain, and focused on ensuring their safety. After a moment, he spoke up. "No sudden movements and we should be fine. And what did you ask?- Oh, yeah, this is just something I picked up. Better than some other things I've tried to control."

Percy smothered the toxic memory of poison before it could consume him, instead concentrating on cleaning off the last remaining snow trapped in his clothing. Though, considering all the questions … "Going back a bit, though. I have a question for you too."

"Hm?"

Luna's voice is absurdly close, and Percy looked up to find them almost face to face. Her silver eyes are wide yet unseeing, expressive yet unreadable. The atmosphere is charged - too charged, but Percy could never keep from setting things off, intentional or not. "If my choices do matter, then why can't gods change?"

She stepped in closer, whispering her answer. But despite her proximity, he failed to hear. He leaned in, nerves tingling in anticipation. "What? Didn't catch that."

Their breaths intertwine unnoticed, as her gaze devoured his. Percy was at best peripherally aware as she shed her jacket and let it fade into nothing. As the moonlight played along the silver of her tunic, the fabric drifting to and fro as she raised her arms to lay her hands on his shoulders.

"Dance with me."

Heart pounding, he tried to comprehend her command. After it processed, he frowned in confusion, his brow furrowing as he tried to formulate some response. Annabeth. He barely knew Luna. They were literally standing on thin ice. "Bu-"

"The others are having their dance. Why shouldn't we?" She interrupted.

Still, though, it wasn't right. But then she continued. "This is my favor. My request."

And then it was a given.

"Pushy, pushy," Percy snarked, but he can't help but smile despite his misgivings because her beam is all too radiant. He rested his hands on her hips, oddly reminiscent of how he'd rescued her before. "Alright then, Moonbeam."

Besides a raise of an eyebrow, nothing. And then they danced.

It had only been right, because there she was, shining before him. And he gave the dance his all, because it was as good as his word when he'd said he owed her. Because somehow, he was happy right now, despite all his troubles in the past year, in the past six months, in the past day.

So with music in his head only he could hear, he danced with Luna. He danced under the moon and stars, danced amongst the shimmering yet serene ice and snow, danced with the beautiful girl who'd enraptured him since the moment he met her.

And when her right hand trailed down his chest, he took it in his left. Their swaying ceased as they considered their closeness. After a brief moment of mutual consideration, Percy refined how he held her hand, cupping it and interlacing their fingers. Then, he let it fall back to his chest and let it rest.

Luna began their swaying again, gently laying her head on his shoulder and nuzzling into the crook of his collarbone. In turn, he adjusted to increased intimacy by moving his other hand up to her back, holding her to him even as her other hand curled around his neck.

There was no space left between them.

He didn't care.

Maybe it was wrong to dance with someone who wasn't his girlfriend, but they'd been struggling and he wanted to savor the sheer contentment he'd achieved tonight. After everything, he could finally believe in a better world again, because of the person in his arms.

So he danced anyway.

But then thunder rumbled - the end of the Solstice - and Luna extricated herself from their dance.

The atmosphere faded abruptly, turning hollow, a shell of the sheer raw expression of emotion the two had shared that night.

"Keep in touch?" Percy asked, voice barely working.

And she smiled back, fragile and rich with uncertainty. Moonbeam couldn't have been more perfect for who he saw before him.

Without a sound, she nodded, turned around, and walked away.

There was only one thought left in Percy's mind as he watched her leave.

Meeting Luna felt like fate.

* * *

 _Author's Note_

You will get everything you expect, and none of it.


	2. si vales valeo

_Thy fate is the common fate of all; Into each life some rain must fall. - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_

* * *

There was something about the quiet moment that always came after an argument.

It was smothering, choking. Not to forget the part where the moment was quiet only to let the voices in your head berate you all the louder, bringing up more counterpoints or justifications or comebacks that couldn't be said. And then those would fester in silence - the worst possible thing for anything to fester in - and then the next argument would be louder and angrier, and then things would be left even more bitter and quiet than before, and then …

And then it repeated.

But there were ways to get out of that cycle. Talking things out weren't quite working, _obviously_. The next step was advice from close friends - except all those were also sorta close friends with the other person in question, and Percy really didn't want to drag them into anything problematic.

Who was left, then, as someone who could provide solid advice and not favor either side?

The answer was obvious.

So Percy sat at his bedroom desk, considering the bowl of water he'd set before him, drachma bouncing in his hand and too many thoughts in his head.

What to say?

'Hi, how you doing, I've been great?'

Nice.

The first sentence in and he was already lying.

That would work well.

But what else could he start with?

He hadn't seen Luna since the Solstice. He'd meant to contact her earlier, to maybe call a week ago instead of now, but he'd just _sorta_ been preoccupied with his significant other. Just a bit.

And then he'd forgot, and then more shit hit the fan, and then he remembered …

And then, and then, and then. It was like drowning again, with everything moving so fast and taking him off guard.

Things were snowballing faster than an avalanche.

Well, insincere as it was, he had something to start with.

Flicking on his desk lamp, he adjusted the angle before waving his hand, lifting and freezing (holding, really) a spray of water droplets in place. A rainbow splayed out over the table, dim but resplendent.

Good enough.

He tossed in the gold coin, muttering a 'prayer.' "Fleecy, do me a solid and show me Luna."

For some reason, it took a good minute for her to appear, slightly flustered and more than surprised. She looked just as he remembered, almost. She was dressed exactly the same (not that he was anyone to say anything about fashion), and her eyes were just as silver as he remembered. Her hair was redder than he recalled, but the light that night two weeks ago had been sketchy, to say the least. And … somehow, she seemed … shorter?

Nah.

"Perseus! I didn't expect - what?" She bubbled, a tad flustered, edging closer to a tree beside her.

"Well, I said keep in touch, didn't I? I wanted to know how you were doing." And there he went, off script already. Not that he had much of a script in the first place, but that wasn't the point.

Nonetheless, Luna still looked confused by the whole deal.

"Oh! Yeah, you've never gotten an Iris Message before, right? It's a Greek thing."

Luna nodded quickly, clearly relieved by his explanation. "Yes, yes, it's just a bit strange - I've heard of them recently, but I didn't really know what it was. I hardly expected to receive one! Nor did I really expect you to try to keep in touch with me, to be frank."

Percy sat back, surprised. "Wha? I said I would, that's as good as giving my word."

The Roman waved her hand dismissively. "Perhaps, but I imagined you would be busy with all your heroic shenanigans and school, and forget about me."

"Well, how to put it?" Percy smiled, genuinely, properly amused for the first time since - since the Solstice. "Hell no. How could I forget about you?"

And in response, Luna shied away, trying her best (but failing) to hide the cutest blush. It passed quickly, though, and she turned back to face him, a glimmer of contentment playing at her lips. "You flatter me."

"Nothing more than you deserve," he quipped in response. And it wasn't. There was no reason for Luna to downplay herself so much - she was certainly memorable. "Unless you think that I don't keep my word? I have to take that back, if you're going to be so mean."

Luna giggled. "No, no, what's mine is mine. Perseus Jackson holds me in high regard."

Percy rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Fine, fine, be that way. Still, c'mon, lady. How're ya doing?"

Her smile faded as she contemplated her answer. "I am doing well, I suppose. Things have occurred as per expected, although I'm very busy …"

While he was never the best at picking up subcontext, he quickly understood her meaning. "Did I interrupt something?"

"Yes, you did," Luna admitted reluctantly. "But no matter - you've called, so -"

"No, no, if it's something important you should get back to it! Was it?" Percy asked, to which Luna hesitated, before nodding carefully. "Then another time - any other time that could be better?"

"Perhaps? I don't quite know …" She added.

"I guess I'll call again sometime?" Percy suggested, losing confidence. Things had started off well, but this was getting more than a little awkward.

"I suppose, yes. Keep in touch, wasn't it?" Luna smiled again, honest and open.

"Keep in touch." He agreed, smiling back.

And then she broke the connection, leaving Percy to sink back in his chair.

That hadn't worked out as planned.

It hadn't been horrible. That had to be something, at least.

And now it was quiet again.

* * *

 _If you are well, I am well._


	3. Morning's Breath

_There are some things you learn best in calm, and some in storm. - Willa Cather_

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me?"

That was all Percy could say, after hearing everything that Annabeth had to tell him. Everything that she hadn't said in the past few months, compressed into the past five minutes.

"I wanted to! I really did!" Annabeth pleaded, voice cracking. "But I didn't even know if I wanted to take it at first, because of our, our plans - but this is a once in a lifetime chance, and I'm telling you now! Now that I got a response back - now that I've made a decision - it's just - I can't just, just _pass up_ an internship with _Zaha Hadid_!"

Fuck, he really didn't want to argue. He'd _known_ that Annabeth wasn't telling him something, but she'd always dodged answering whenever he tried to press for information. And by now, arguing was all they did anymore, sniping at each other over their Iris Messages or whenever they hung out. Not that they had done much of either in recent memory - or at all in the past week.

"She's the only woman to have won the gods damned _Pritzker Prize_ \- until last year, at least! And she won two Stirling Prizes! And I heard that she's going to be made a Dame by Queen Elizabeth! Like being knighted - just for her _architecture_ work! Her stuff is _amazing_ , if only you could see it, then you would know that I - that I can't pass this up - you know I didn't mean to, I told you, my dad sent my drawings to them ages ago, I didn't, it wasn't me-"

He was here to clear his head. Camp seemed far enough to feel 'away' from home, from his problems. Saving a newbie demigod from a dracaenae and bringing the tyke to camp was a good enough excuse. Why was she here again? Was it the same reasoning? He couldn't even remember anymore, but Annabeth was also here, and _finally_ , she's telling him everything but the words aren't quite what he ever fucking wanted to hear. And now those same words are ricocheting around within his skull, merging together and getting more loud and painful and tortuous …

"Percy, can't you please say something? My dad - he, he still wants to make things up to me, even though I've long since forgiven him - and then I just shoved it to the back of my head, you know, because there was no way _Zaha Hadid_ would _respond_ to any of my stuff, let alone be able to _see_ it. No harm, no foul. But then she did, a month ago! And that threw me off, and I've been agonizing over what to do, and I didn't want to _worry_ you about it, I didn't want to tell you-"

"-about it." Percy interrupted her, deadpan. Immediately, Annabeth stopped rambling, and her tearful, frightened eyes locked on his. He couldn't take it. Every time he thought she'd said the most hurtful thing, she went on to the next sentence. Percy thought he had a violent temper - yet somehow, all he could do was stand there and listen, and just feel his heart drop through his stomach and feel less and less with every second. He continued, voice drier than the Dead Sea. "How … nice to know my girlfriend _trusts_ me. Were you ever going to mention this if you hadn't accepted the offer?"

The lack of response told him everything.

"Well, isn't that just … _lovely_." Slowly, slowly, he clenched his fists. Then, Percy smiled - small and dark and fragile and shattered. "You know, Annabeth, I might've been fine having my dreams of us together broken. Just _maybe_ , if you told me about it, you know, just a _little_ bit earlier. So I help you make the decision, maybe; maybe even support you like a good boyfriend because that's what you're supposed to do for your partner. _Support them._ Of course, you kinda need to _talk_ to them _first_ , because it's not like that isn't the _other_ part of having a good _relationship_ … communication. It would be so hard for me not to have known you love architecture by now. I just didn't think - didn't think you loved architecture more than _me_. If anything … you know what?"

"No! Percy, no, I know what you're going to say, please, please, please don't-" Annabeth gasped - as if she'd never considered the possible fate she had invited upon them in her indiscretion.

"Maybe it's better for us to spend some time apart," he whispered on, relentless. Dead. "We need some … space. Space, that's the word."

"Percy - no, please, I didn't mean for-!" Annabeth begged, reaching out.

He turned around, towards the sea. He needed - he needed to think. Or not think. Whatever worked. Numbly, step by step, he drifted away.

And then Annabeth leaped forward, seizing him by the arm.

And then everything boiling within him erupted.

And then he threw her back, and then she tumbled onto the grass, gasping with fright, eyes full of terror - a terror all too familiar -

And he remembered poison and misery and night and death.

And he suddenly felt again, felt anger and betrayal and hatred and pity and sadness and shame.

And he ran away.

And …

The sky, grey and dark and mournful, wept.

* * *

Percy loved Annabeth.

That was something he knew he would always be able to say, without reservation.

He'd been through far too much with her - from their first meeting, with her mentioning his drooling; to their first personal moment together, in the back of a smuggling truck, to facing Hades …

To facing the Sea of Monsters and everything within, to desperately trying to rescue her from Mount Tam, to following her through the depths of the Labyrinth and beyond, to defending the very throne room of Olympus …

To losing her again and clawing to the land beyond the gods and back to remember her, to sailing across the US and then the Atlantic, to escaping the depths (and grasp) of Tartarus itself …

She was just about everything to him. Well, he had his mom, and Blofis was fine and dandy - and a baby sister was coming along. And he had his friends, new and old.

But his first and only love was breaking his heart, despite everything they'd gone through together. No - because of everything they'd gone through together.

And it hurt even more because he could even understand why she wanted to hide it. He didn't want to understand things from Annabeth's point of view, but he couldn't escape that, not after spending so much time with her. Not after learning how her logic worked.

It was what held them together, down in Tartarus. Dreaming of a life together, once they got out. Percy was sure she was imagining that too - even with them drinking fire, looking dead, being scared and terrified out of their minds of horrors beyond all comprehension that could only drive them to madness if they even attempted to witness, let alone understand …

Death hounded them, down below the Underworld itself. It had been the worst part of their journey, undeniably, not even the final battle against Gaea compared.

Reliving every battle, again. Every threat they'd once faced, from the first time, together, to the curses arai - _fuck, was he abandoning Annabeth right now? Was he making her feel as Calypso did, was he repeating that same torture?_ \- to the heart of the rivers within Tartarus, to leaving two of the greatest immortals he'd ever met behind -

Yet all he could feel was anguish as he remembered ... everything.

Because it was so ironic, that as life smoothed out to something normal, they needed each other less. They had tried - it had gone well, he felt, even after the second honeymoon phase of their relationship, after their reunion. But going back to school, going back to life after everything had _changed_ \- all the nightmares of future possibility, and the contrast of mundane life where they just didn't seem to enjoy the same quiet -

Or maybe he was just delusional. When had the little bits of unease begun? Before, or after the time she had said that her father had sent her work to that damned famous whoever architect?

Fuck, Annabeth knew how much being together in New Rome meant to him. College together, 4 years of happiness, as he figured out whatever mortal degree he wanted …

And now he felt all the stupider, because what if he was the only one who needed college since he hadn't figured out his life yet? Annabeth could honestly spend the rest of her life redesigning Olympus and be happy, she probably didn't even need even New Rome's help in learning how to do architecture. Was he holding her back with wanting to spend college together? She probably had things all figured out compared to him, despite dyslexia and ADHD holding her back in school, because she was that fucking wonderful.

Because yes, he could understand why Annabeth wanted to do the internship. Because yes, she was that smart, and she knew that she would break his heart if she ever mentioned it. Because yes, she was that modest to not believe that she was that brilliant and capable as to have a world-renowned architect want to have her. Because yes, she didn't plan to leave - her father had opened up the door, but at the same time, she wasn't too stupid not to take the opportunity.

Because yes, Annabeth had better prospects than being with him.

And gods be fucking damned to all hell if that didn't hurt like a bitch.

Gods be fucking damned to all hell if it didn't feel like he was drowning alive all over again, lying there in the morning tide, swallowed by the tumultuous rain and feeling like he couldn't breathe.

Percy loved Annabeth.

* * *

A sudden pain in his calf sent Percy snapping awake.

Instantly, he drew the ocean to him (when had he stopped drifting in the tide?), which brought a wave crashing around him. "-ing schist, what in the-" he spluttered, spitting out sand as he struggled to rise from the draining riptide. "Gods that hurt."

He rubbed his leg - it still smarted, and why was he so fucking tired? What time was it, past midnight? What in Hades had hit him? He couldn't sense anything near - why was he out here agai-

Fuck.

It was all he could do not to just curl up into a ball again, and hope to fall asleep again. As long as he didn't dream. He didn't dream just now, or if he did, he didn't remember. He couldn't bear anything more. He just wanted to rest - didn't he deserve a break? So much for his name, if he couldn't catch a single fucking bre-

"Hem, hem."

Somehow, through the rain that splittered and splattered on the ocean surface and sand all around, he heard a cough, from someone a mere few feet behind him.

He spun around. "Oh, f- uhm, who are you?"

A twist in his gut, and the rain around him began to fade, and through bleary eyes and draining storm, he saw a girl. His first instinct told (screamed) Annabeth, but no, it wasn't her. Why would it be her?

And then, a voice, dry and sarcastic and almost _familiar_ , entered his awareness. "Pray tell, Son of the Sea, why do you still not know who I am?"

Wasn't she pleasant? "I haven't really been around camp recently - but if you got into camp, you're not a threat. You're not delivering pizza. You're glowing silver … oh."

The penny dropped. She didn't look as young as he remembered her to be - almost his age in appearance, in fact. And she was covered up quite a bit, in clothing for snowy weather, for whatever reason. Thick parka, waterproof leggings, boots and all. But it was all too clear who she was.

"Lady Artemis," he addressed, bowing. It was short, and just barely there, but still respectful enough, he hoped. Because, well, he respected her - she was one of the few gods that deserved his respect. And he didn't quite want to be transformed into a jackalope.

Strangely, she grimaced, as if his bow was still somehow an offense. "No need for that, Perseus."

What? He frowned. Maybe his brain was broken from everything from - everything from earlier, but _what_? Visible light wasn't good - really, the goddess was the only light source around, but she looked … worn. Unhappy. That wasn't good. "Uhm … no need for … what? Lady Artemis?"

She really didn't look happy, so he tagged on the last bit for good measure. Yet still she seemed to only get more displeased - could he do anything right nowadays? Her voice was still calm though, even though he could detect a note of severity. "Bowing. The formalities, et cetera."

Brow furrowing, he stared at her in confusion. "Sorry, what? Why?"

Gods, his brain hurt - what the fuck was going on? Was this a dream? This would be one fucking weird dream, then. But demigod dreams were always premonitions, not weird impossible events. Yet all of this was far too surreal.

The goddess waved her hand dismissively, eyes blank and unreadable. "Just … humor me, Perseus."

Percy frowns, sending Artemis a look all too full of doubt. Why was she acting so strange? He was really too tired to deal with this crap. After a pause, he answered carefully. "As you wish."

And then nothing. For all of Artemis's initial vigor, she's just standing there, staring at him. And why was she in clothing for snowy weather? It was hard to tell with the low light, but it was plainly obvious her parka and boots were meant for harsher conditions. He had to be dreaming. Only his brain would come up with shit so strange.

Then he noticed the goddess looking at him. No, not looking at him. Analyzing him as if he were prey - as if taking in all his faults and deeming him unworthy in her frosty gaze.

"What?" He snapped, suddenly all too awake and angry. He'd had enough of _judgment_ , enough of _condescension_ \- before remembering that he shouldn't be a fucking idiot with how he was dealing with a goddess that hated men. Percy swallowed his frustration and grimaced, calming himself. "My apologies, milady. I'm just a bit … tired." He stifled a yawn. "Just a bit tired."

Tension he hadn't noticed in the air lifted, and the goddess's stare became less intense. Really, why was she even here, talking to him? Fuck, was she going to send him on some quest? It wouldn't be that hard compared to everything else he'd already done, but couldn't he just _not_? Couldn't he ever get a fucking break?

But the question she asked came straight out of left field. "Have you considered the source of your exhaustion to be the storm you dredged up from the depths?"

What? He looked at her blankly, picking up on her irritation, restrained as it was. It was in the tightened jaw and narrowed eyes, the raised eyebrow and sharp gesture to their surroundings. "Do you … do you even know what you're doing as of this moment? Do you still fail to realize the extent of your powers?"

Percy followed her movement, taking in the storm around him. How long had it been going now? Since his fight with Annabeth, it felt. But surely, that had to be a coincidence. There was absolutely no way that what Artemis was suggesting was correct - there was no way he'd caused this storm. He could manage a personal hurricane for a few hours, yes. He could navigate a ship through a storm for a day or two, yes. But summon a storm to cover all of Camp?

"This was done by me?" Percy shook his head in disbelief. "Wha- How could I …? I didn't even notice - realize - I didn't even mean to!"

"Yet sometimes emotions get the best of us," Artemis answered softly. "What happened, Perseus?"

And fuck it all if what she said didn't make his insides twist with anger, as irrational as he knew that feeling was. Who was she, to care about how he felt? Who was she, to be here when all he wanted was to be alone and miserable? Who was she, to be trusted with whatever he could possibly say?

The ocean churned in concert with his turmoil.

Maybe he could see now, how strong a storm would be due to how he felt.

If nothing else, she was an Olympian who he couldn't afford to piss off, however angry he felt. He had enough gods that didn't like him already, and as far as he knew, Artemis was generally in favor of him besides his gender.

"A… disagreement." Percy finally answered, tight and unyielding. Because in the end, that was what happened. That was … it.

Strangely, Artemis sat down, on the grass before the sands of the beach. Why? It was informal, it was surrendering power in the conversation dynamics. After that moment of consideration, the demigod followed suit, landing heavily onto the dune from which he was resting on earlier.

Nothing made sense anymore.

Artemis sighed. When she spoke, her voice barely carried over the persistent sound of rain. "The storm must cease, Son of the Sea."

"I don't even know how I started it!" he snapped, voice cracking. "How do you expect me to stop it?"

He hunched over, holding his head in his hands. Why was it always him? Couldn't he ever get a break? Couldn't the rest of the world just fuck off?

"Either way, you must stop the storm." Her voice continued undeterred, with no regard for his torment. "It is not fair for half of the country to suffer because of your … disagreement."

"Why not?" Percy sat up explosively, gesturing out to the world around. The goddess's lips twitched in response, and his irritation rose further. "What in Hades has fairness done for me?"

Artemis cocked her head, silver eyes shining through the dark as they stared into his soul.

"Why in Hades should I fucking care?"

The goddess fell silent at that. Disturbingly silent, and Percy began to worry. Whatever could she be thinking, gazing so intently at him, not answering his question? As angry as he was at the mythological world for all the shit he's gotten his entire life, verbalizing such to a goddess wasn't exactly his best plan.

But he wouldn't take those words back. Because after all he's done, wasn't he at least a bit justified? Didn't he deserve a break from the suffering that all demigods faced?

The irony of a hero's life - with a life of adventure, with the threat of death, constantly … he wanted a normal life, at least for a few years. He knew he would never get it, but even something closer - not this torture of constant stress and betrayal.

Though maybe that was normal life - having someone you love cause you pain.

What a happy thought.

And in the midst of his introspection, Artemis rose to a crouch. Her silver aura dimmed - then flared out even brighter, throwing the storm-torn beach into sharp relief.

She was … Percy stood, pulling out his pen. She was mimicking drawing a bow, left arm held out and right hand drawing back, plucking something not quite imaginary from thin air. Because as she did so, a bow, with its string taut and nocked with an arrow, shimmered into existence.

He uncapped his pen. The bronze blade leaped out, shining with internal light, ready to wound.

Whatever Artemis was doing, he wasn't going down without a fight.

The goddess stepped back, soundless against the storm. With a breath, she released the arrow.

With a sweep of his sword, Percy deflected the arrow. To be honest with himself, he'd had a touch too much practice doing that over the years. He had to narrow the distance, not let her seize the range advantage. Of course, though, he was fighting the goddess of archery - so by the next step he took, two more shots were already upon him. Thankfully, Artemis had sent them in a wide spread, so he dashed forward … only to realize he'd been baited, tunneled into position for the next three shots, aimed straight at his face.

This time he ducked and rolled. He couldn't dodge forever, though. At the current rate of fire, he'd be a pincushion by the time he got within striking distance. So, he needed more protection. He hadn't wanted to risk damaging Tyson's gift again, but frankly, gifts were meant to be used.

Percy flared his left wrist, and the intricate bronze watch that sat there so innocently gleamed in the stormy night. His brother's beautifully forged shield spiraled out just in time to protect him from the next series of bolts.

He couldn't let her freely rain arrows upon him - not if he wanted to survive. He yanks in the next wave ahead of schedule, using the water to propel him forward faster, while simultaneously dissecting the wave and launching dozens or so bolts of water in Artemis's direction. A blink of the eye later, though, and all the projectiles were sliced in half, a wave of silver light tearing through the tide.

And for a moment, she was in his range, even though she had no reason to be. The goddess had had adequate time to move away during that last exchange. He sliced out blindly, disoriented by the intensity of light from her last volley - and then his shield was knocked to the side, yanking him along with it, and there was a foot on his chest, and a _push_. A push so strong he was sent flying back to the ocean whence he came, remembering Atlas flying towards where the sky met the earth, even as silver fell upon him.

But he was back in the sea. The cuts on his legs were gone by the time he realized they were there, and his shirt was tattered to bits, beyond saving. Percy took a second to gather the ebb and flow of the storm before dashing back to shore, where Artemis had landed. A sheer wall of arrows, this time not so blinding, forced him under the surface of the ocean, forced him to reconsider his approach.

And through the clarity of the murky sea, through the clarity of violence and battle and adrenaline, through the clarity of living and _life_ \- he saw Artemis, primed and ready once more to shoot him down, with the strangest smile of content upon her ethereal face.

It was a shame that he had to wipe something that beautiful off her face. By all intents and purposes, it was because she was hunting him. And he wasn't dying. Not today.

He collapsed his shield. All or nothing. Either he got close enough this time, or he died for it. He couldn't let it hinder him this time.

He hitched a ride from inside the wave, edging it further than naturally possible. Somehow, she pedaled back fast enough to avoid the crash, ever so frantic yet graceful. But he was in range to use his sword properly now - gamble successful - and he dove forth, slashing down, bronze cutting forth a blade of light.

Artemis caught the blow with her bow, leaning with the sheer weight he'd placed behind the sword. The bow bent between them as if it was about to break. Then she _twisted_ , and the bow snapped in two, throwing off his sword. And somehow, in a move that defied his understanding of physics, she redirected the release of tension from the stressed silver bow into a body slam, sending him staggering back.

But not for long. He knew his footwork, and he was back at her. And in place of the bow was two almost too familiar combat knives, one guiding his sword away from its intended path to her body, the other swiping at his gut.

Percy reverse stepped away from the knife. It was a stupid move, exposing his back as he turned, but he had no other choice, and there was no way Artemis could reverse her grip to stab him before he got away. As he got around her guard, he pushed even harder with Riptide. From this position, there was no way for her to deflect without his blade cutting into her flesh. Instead, she fell with the push, sidestepping away.

He took a page from the Roman handbook and jabbed at her chest. Agile as ever, she slipped away from his attack, and her foot found its way around one of his before sweeping him off his feet. Somehow, she was already on her feet once more, slicing down at him even as he fell.

Why did he think taking her at close range would be any easier?

This time, Percy mimicked her tactics, rolling _towards_ Artemis, within the knife blades to escape, and flipping Riptide to cut at her legs. But she was faster than him, aborting her attack to jump away. He took that brief respite to stand, only for the silver flash of the knife in her hand as it revolved in place warned him of imminent danger.

He leaned to the side as the knife flew past his face - _Hades fuck that one was way too close_ \- and he readied his blade only to find her at his feet again, sending him tumbling to the sand.

But instead of ending him then and there, she took that opening to retrieve her other knife.

And then they both recovered, turning around or standing up, all the same. With a breath, with a pause, Percy assessed Artemis.

Sure, he could have maybe defended himself in time before she slit his throat. But she'd gone for her other blade instead. Was she better with two knives than she was with one alone?

There was that shine in her eyes, the one that came right as she decided to re-engage.

The demigod lost himself in the duel. He couldn't win, he knew that. He could only keep up the boost from the water for so long, and his longer reach wouldn't last against Artemis's agility and godly resilience. He had thought his footwork was good, experienced swordsman as he was - then she's tripped him _twice_ , within thirty seconds.

It was a dance, one that he couldn't help but enjoy because of the demigod warrior within him. There was a rhythm, an electricity in the air, and a partner. Once a soldier, always a soldier. But ever so slowly, he was getting swept up in her tempo. He'd matched her to begin with, having the initiative with the first attack. But that had flowed into hers into his into hers, ad nauseum, both cause and effect in a perpetual cycle. Two swirling blades of silver and clashed against a single bronze, leaving aftertrails of cool light.

And it was from that which the idea came. Two blades on one, he couldn't win. But if he managed to pull this off correctly …

Percy sent his next slash two inches too high - a minuscule mistake, but it was more than enough for Artemis to try to capitalize. She'd sent a feint of her own before sliding into, under Riptide, and cut a deep fucking painful slice into his forearm. Fighting his ingrained lessons, he let go of his sword, letting it fly away into the sea.

Then he dropped on her, landing on her leg (and hopefully spraining it). Maybe Artemis was surprised that he'd let go of his only weapon, maybe she was surprised he'd once again copied her body slam, but she was definitely surprised that he'd managed to steal one of the knives before tumbling away.

From there, it was still absolutely no contest though. He was at best handy with a knife, and the goddess was all too vicious in making her skill apparent. He took a dozen more cuts as he defended himself to the best of his ability. It would have been more, but she was slowed, favoring her leg just enough. But he'd lost his sword for that.

'Lost.'

A familiar weight appeared in his pocket.

He crouched, nearly falling to his knees, all while palming Riptide. He held the silver knife up half-heartedly, as if to ward her away. Not that it helped - in one leap, Artemis was right on him again, and he tried to dodge by falling to the grass.

Tried. He wouldn't have made it, as she twisted to follow, but then her leg had crumbled beneath her. and she toppled down to the side along with him, losing her grip on her knife in the process. But, as elegant and inhuman as ever, she reached out and snatched back her knife from him, even as she fell. And by the time they'd both landed, the point was tucked beneath his chin.

Match.

Riptide's bronze blade rested only millimeters from her chest.

The remnant of a wave bubbled up to them, enveloping their lower bodies in a half foot of water. But he couldn't use it - not with a knife at his throat. He was healing, but he couldn't manipulate the water, couldn't run, couldn't keep fighting.

But it was a stalemate, considering the sword at her heart.

And he couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips, as small as it was. Because he'd won on his own terms, even if he was going to die for it. If nothing else … he'd found a small victory, in the midst of his demise.

And then she looked into his eyes, silver so bright and breathtaking and otherworldly, and he swallowed his breath. For the last thing he ever saw, it wasn't half bad.

All his anger drizzled away.

Percy's eyes flickered to a rivulet of water, ever so slowly making its way down Artemis's cheek, before snapping back to her eyes. Softening, no longer aggressive or violent or determined eyes.

The goddess slowly pulled her knife away, waving it into nothingness. And since he wasn't stupid and understood what that meant, he capped Riptide.

Unexpectedly, she spoke, voice raspy from exertion. Only a single word. "Better?"

Artemis didn't wait for his reply, trying to stand. And it was in the midst of him opening his mouth, trying to formulate his answer that her leg he injured gave out once again. Then she fell on him.

Even if Percy wasn't exhausted by the battle by this point, he wasn't exactly in any position to do anything but drop his pen and go with the flow of the sudden weight.

It took a bit of a moment to realize that a virgin goddess was just about laying on top of him, face to face. Enough time for him to flush red, and for Artemis to blush golden. Then their weight shifted, and she rolled over to the other side of him, before ceasing movement altogether.

"Better," Percy panted, not sure what else he could say. The goddess didn't even turn to acknowledge him, but he was sure she was listening. It was a touch off-putting, really, since Artemis had always recognized him, faced him whenever they had spoken before, however much she disliked his gender. Basic conversational respect that he didn't get with every god, essentially. Strange … "I needed that."

He was kinda just happy to lie there with her, though. Maybe he would wake up soon. Because it was all too surreal to just quietly enjoy the aftermath of the passing storm, the aftermath of the ended battle with Artemis.

Still, the positivity of post-battle success couldn't last forever. Not with what he had to face when he went back to camp proper.

Fuck. If he was really thinking of that, this wasn't a dream, as fantastical as it was.

But things felt better nonetheless. And for that …

"Thank you, mila-" He stopped himself in time, remembering her earlier request. Fair was fair, and he had no reason to deny a goddess he respected. "Artemis."

It took a moment for her to answer, as if she was all too happy to sink into the earth and sleep.

"You … you are welcome."

And it was just him and her, on the beach, in their own little world.

It was comfortable, just the two of them. Far too comfortable.

Percy pulled himself up. Artemis shifted abruptly beside him, and he glanced over. It didn't look like she had moved, though she was now looking at him.

Some unintelligible emotion swelled up within him. Anger? Disappointment? Confusion?

"I should get back," he said quietly. The drizzle petered out completely. "Too many things to do."

Artemis closed her eyes, all too casual in her response. "Hm?"

"I've gotta see how Thalia's doing, I guess." If Artemis was at Camp, the Hunters were also bound to be. It had been a good while since they'd checked up on each other. How much shorter would she be? "Resolve certain … certain disagreements."

Because there was that part, too. The part the goddess had sorta told him to deal with, the part he knew he had to deal with. He stood up, then looked back down to the goddess, who hadn't moved.

"Get everyone prepped to lose in Capture the Flag to the Hunters again, I guess?" Percy joked. He wasn't really sure if he could leave without offending her, and Artemis didn't seem exactly in a rush to do anything.

He held out his hand to pull her up. He didn't have enough time to consider whether she would be insulted before she opened her eyes and considered him.

After all … _that_ , though, she probably wouldn't smite him.

She accepted his hand silently.

Percy groaned quietly as he pulled her up - dam, he was sore as hell. But when he let go, she lurched to the side, about to fall again. And maybe he was suicidal - well, no, he was suicidal, but he grabbed her arm to steady her. Then, under her impassive, ever so alien but beautiful gaze, he slipped her arm over his shoulder to better support her weight.

"Did I really do that much of a number on you?" He asked, trying to keep the ice from freezing over.

"I'll be fine." Artemis was curt, dismissing him with a wave. She fell again, though, as he pulled away again, And he couldn't help but wrap his arm around her waist before she fell into the grass.

Percy really didn't know what he could say anymore. He was very likely wearing her patience beyond the limit, judging by her sigh. He quickly pulled her arm over his shoulder again, eager to escape their … _intimate_ embrace.

"Just help me back over to the beach."

It was a short distance to walk, going from the grassy knolls before the sands of the shore. But it still took an age to arrive, Percy all too aware of Artemis's deep but quiet breaths.

Strangely, he missed holding her up by the time she stepped away, capable of standing on her own again. It was a stark difference, from holding her up to seeing her stare out over the tranquil ocean.

Time to go.

But it was too gorgeous a picture. A young woman, impossibly beautiful, looking out introspectively into the pitch black sky and sea.

Only after he finished committing that image to memory, did he turn to leave.

Then she spoke. And what came out of her mouth, however quiet, however hesitant, told Percy so much more about her than anything else he'd ever heard.

"I don't think the Hunters will win this year."

It was hardly a whisper, but it was an admittance of fear. It was a recognition of a threat, of a worry that wasn't befitting of immortals. A vulnerability without all the usual bluster, or dismissal, or however else other gods treated their weaknesses.

Somehow, it made her feel more real than anything else in the mythological world.

It made her seem … human.

Maybe he wasn't the only one dealing with issues.

On the surface, it probably didn't seem that big. There were maybe fifty campers around, even for school season. But last he heard from Thalia, the Hunt hadn't been recruiting since the final battle, and that there had been like, a good bit less than ten Hunters left. Still, Percy was almost half sure that the Hunt would win anyways.

Yet for Artemis herself to voice doubt …

How was he supposed to respond to that? Why was Artemis trusting him with such a thing? Sure, Percy liked to think of himself as a pretty good person, but, like. He was mortal. He was disrespectful. He was a he.

What?

But he couldn't just leave. He couldn't leave not having said something, done something - but he couldn't bring himself to act, even as moved to wipe her face.

Somehow, he already had words in mind to deal with Annabeth (well, he'd had more than a few hours to think over those), but comforting a goddess he hardly knew wasn't in any of the cards.

Not trusting himself to say anything, he reached out to oh so gently to tap, touch, hold her arm.

And she turned to him, face still wet, whether from storm or tears or both he couldn't tell.

He gave her tentative smile, trying his best to express some empathy for whatever issue she had that he was sure he could hardly comprehend, to express his regret that he couldn't say anything that would help, to at least stand in solidarity and perhaps understanding that she was in pain.

If nothing else, that he was with her for the moment.

He stepped in closer, instinctively, other arm rising before consciously stopping himself, holding himself back. He was a sucker for … physical reassurance, but that wasn't appropriate. At all.

Nonetheless, Percy gently squeezed her arm, then drew in a breath. "May I …"

He paused, making sure of what he wanted to say. "Permission … permission to join your team, Artemis?"

That was all he could say. All he could say, without transgressing some boundary between them. Whatever that boundary between them.

And her shy nod, however strange it was to see done by the goddess he'd always known to be so confident, made his smile just a bit brighter.

But it was time to get back to things. Back to Camp. Back to school. Back to Annabeth.

Back to life.


	4. non sum qualis eram

_Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky. - Rabindranath Tagore_

* * *

The capture the flag game later that day was an easy win.

For the Hunters, at least. Which Percy thought was really depressing, since it was thirty or so campers against six hunters and himself.

Granted, Jason and Nico had decided not to participate, so there were two kids of the Big Three very comfortable with abusing their powers without anyone to properly counter them on the Camp's side. Not to mention that Annabeth and Piper were still at whereabouts unknown and couldn't be told about the game, so there hadn't been some genius strategy or cheatspeak to turn the tide either.

With Chiron informed (and exasperated, muttering something about fifty-seven), the Hunt quickly accepted Percy (mostly because of Thalia's support) and developed a strategy centered around his powers immediately.

That is, centered around him being a distraction. Not that he minded so much anymore - he didn't always have to be the hero. He just had to play his part.

In an ironic redemption of their last capture the flag game together, Thalia and Percy had worked together as the only offense for their team, while the five others of the Hunt played defense. The game ended in less than ten minutes. Percy engaged and fended off most of the offense and defense of the Camp at the creek while Thalia snuck her way around to the flag, picked off the last defenses, and then waltzed her way back. And judging from what chatter he'd overheard from the Hunt, any of the Camp's offense that made it past Percy's miniature storm at the border didn't even make it past more than a third of the defensive traps the Hunt had set up. Well, except the Stolls, who had nearly made off with the Hunt's flag, before getting knocked out with extreme prejudice via a few rock-filled, boxing-glove-tipped arrows to the face.

Because of that one-sided victory, dinner an hour or so later was a bit awkward.

"You're not getting out of this, Percy, come sit." Thalia dragged him away from his table to the rest of Hunt, with him fighting half-heartedly all the way. "You helped us win, I'm sure Lady Artemis will be fine with his."

Percy sighed, ignoring all the eyes on him, glaring accusations of betrayal as he slid onto the bench. If Thalia put it that way, he couldn't really argue. Not when she would hunt him down for a talk one way or another even if he successfully got out of this. Still, while none of the Hunt spoke up or argued with their lieutenant's decision, they clearly were not happy to have him there. Accepting, but not happy.

He did his best to stay away from them at the other end of the table, while Thalia slumped into place across from him without comment. Given how few there were, it wasn't hard to. Voice quiet, he asked, "Not to be insulting or anything, but why is the Hunt so small?"

Thalia bit her lip, sending her compatriots a sideways glance before answering. "Lady Artemis hasn't been recruiting. The last time we did was right before the Battle of Manhattan, and you know how that went. And then there was the time we had to save Hera … and then Orion …"

Well, shit. Percy's mouth went dry. "I'm sorry."

Thalia shrugged, trying to appear casual and failing. A sorrowful sigh was all the Daughter of Zeus let escape her before calming down. "It's affected us." She sent another glance to the rest of the Hunters, who were nowhere near as cheerful as he remembered from their last win. "All of us."

Chiron arrived at the dining pavilion, taking his place at the head table. Stomping his hoof against the marble floor, he raised a glass, "To the gods!"

"To the gods," Percy muttered unenthusiastically along with the crowd as he tipped his glass. "Is that … is that why Artemis isn't here?"

The goddess had vanished at some point after he'd left. The single trace of her having been around camp at all was that Thalia had known Percy had switched sides.

Thalia frowned and shook her head as the wood nymphs came forward with the food. "Shouldn't be. According to someone who's been part of the Hunt the longest, we only come to camp when she needs to do something by herself. I think part of the reason was for shelter from the blizzard, but she probably had something else to do. We've got standing orders til she's back."

Percy hummed in understanding as he filled his plate, before rising with Thalia to bring his food to the center brazier. He stood back, letting everyone else make their sacrifices as he reflected over the past few days and who he would sacrifice to.

Once everyone else had finished, he stepped up himself. _Dad_. As usual, the best slice of meat, into the fire. After all, who else but he would sacrifice to Poseidon? _Hestia_. A piece of toast, cheese spread atop it fell into the flame. Percy couldn't help but glance to the head table, where an innocuous little girl smiled warmly at him. She got a cut of every sacrifice, but Percy still ended up sending something nice her way every few days. He had to feed, nurture, sustain Hope. Now more than ever, even. Finally … _Artemis_. He didn't know what the goddess would like - this was only the second time he'd ever sacrificed to her - so he ended up dropping in a few fruits that he hadn't seen the Hunt sacrifice to their goddess. And a chocolate chip cookie.

Percy couldn't help but take a small whiff to enjoy the smoke before making his way back to the Hunt's table. He was briefly taken aback when he saw that Nico had joined Thalia, but slipped back into his seat without comment. As someone who sat by himself almost full time, he'd always thought the ban on going to other tables was dumb anyway.

"So." Thalia's electric blue eyes locked onto him. Nico's gaze also swerved to him, dark and disappointed. "Talk to me. What's up between you and Annabeth?"

Percy swallowed thickly, suddenly not hungry despite not having eaten properly for days. It was funny how two of his friends, physically in appearance a full two years younger than him but technically much older, could make him feel so nervous with just a look. "Not yelling at me yet?"

"We don't know enough to," said Nico, sounding so much more collected than he'd once been. "To my knowledge, Piper took Annabeth to Rachel's cave and won't let anyone see her. Jason's told Thalia some of the details, but that wasn't much. Not to mention he didn't know anything either."

Percy looked at the head table once more, where Jason was picking at his food, trying to hide his annoyance from being talked at by Mr. D.

"Something's up between you and Annabeth," continued Thalia, "And we want to help. Whether that's to knock some sense into you or listen to your whining depends on what you tell us."

Percy sighed, all too aware of his words now. "Honestly, nothing's up."

Thalia growled while Nico only cocked his head to the side.

"Just listen, please," Percy begged. He stabbed a piece of barbecue and chewed on it, trying to stall for time and clear his mind. Thankfully, his interrogators backed off, starting on their own meals.

"Seriously, though-" Percy chuckled, quiet and bittersweet. "Nothing's up. That's the problem."

Thalia rolled her eyes, still agitated but reigning in her temper. "Explain properly, so help me, I don't care if you kept the Hunt's win streak or not, I will gut you."

Percy buried his face in his hands. "How the … how the fuck do I explain that we've lost our touch? How the fuck do I explain that since surviving together in _Tartarus_ of all places, we don't feel closer, but further apart? How the fuck do I explain that when I see her, I can't help but see all my failures along with our successes? How the fuck do I explain that after all our time together, we can't properly spend a normal day together? How the fuck do I explain that we don't seem to share enough of the same interests anymore, the desire to have the same future anymore?"

Except he knew. He knew that he couldn't help but hate himself for his failures, for failing Calypso and Bob and Damasen and _her_ down in the hells below, that he'd done everything he could but wasn't enough. That he'd hurt her and was still hurting her, but didn't know how to stop because any action at this point was going to hurt anyways.

"Percy-" Thalia began. But he wasn't going to be interrupted.

"How the fucking hell do I explain that I love her so fucking much, but not want what she wants? But not see that what she wants is different from what I want? But not see that's what makes her happy, and not want to take that away from her, but have what I want be ripped away from me?"

He knew that their dreams of the future didn't line up. That he'd dreamt of normalcy since the moment he'd been dragged into the mythological world, while Annabeth had always dreamed of going out on a quest, to fight and experience that life. That she dreamed of big things, that she embraced everything they fought while he only did so reluctantly to protect those that he loved. That she was capable of those grand things that she desired and was going to pursue them … while he was not. While he did not dream of greater things in life, that he did not want greater things in life, that he could not do greater things in life.

"How … how do I explain that we've just been going through the motions? How do I explain that if I've been able to see the cracks between us, then she's definitely seen them? How do I explain that both of us want to keep this so bad that we're willing to lie to ourselves for months? How do I explain that we want different things in life?"

He knew that being together hurt, and that being apart hurt.

"How do I explain that I love her even though everything that I do hurts her and that everything she does hurts me? How do I explain that?"

Percy furiously wiped away the liquid leaking from his eyes - no, they weren't tears - too angry to break down but too shattered to stop.

He tore into his food, not caring if the other two with him were speechless, trying to process all that he had vented. He was still processing it all himself - what was he supposed to do? His dream for a happy, quiet, as close to normal future in New Rome and beyond … didn't seem to have Annabeth in it.

He'd sacrificed half his meal, so his plate was empty in seconds. He stared down at it. Even food had betrayed him.

Funnily enough, it was Nico that offered advice while Thalia listed to the side, poking dejectedly at her plate. "Given … all that, I guess we don't need to hurt you." Nico offered him a wry smile. "Though you seem to be torturing yourself plenty enough already. The only advice I can offer you there is, well … one from experience." His smile turned sad and empathetic. "Do what's right. It might be the one that hurts the most for now, but it's the one that will turn out for the best. Take it from someone who made the wrong choice for far too long. That's all I've got."

"Why do you two have to be so stupid?" Thalia sighed and jerked her head towards Nico. "You heard what he said. You know where she is, right?" Percy nodded. "Then go figure things out."

So he left the dining pavilion. A fair half of the campers had already left, having finished eating quickly and not having a campfire singalong to attend afterward since it was the school year. There was something off about Camp Half Blood at any other time than summer. The atmosphere depressed him, with it being almost empty. It didn't help that some campers sending him glares for giving the Hunt a fighting chance in the capture the flag game.

Then there was the sheer aftermath of his storm. Walking through camp in this state, it was as if he were in a different world. There had been battles, sure … but to see the camp mutilated by weather, by him alone, was another thing entirely.

The skies were still a too familiar stormy grey, darker than the usual New York winter fare. The puddles were shrinking but still massive and deep, and even if the canoe lake was still looking like a real lake and the creek seemed more like a river, they were no longer flooded to high hell.

He still couldn't believe that he was supposed to be responsible for all this. It wasn't destruction, it wasn't desolation … but the mark he'd left was undeniable. And it was supposed to be like this - no, a blizzard - across the entire East Coast? Percy couldn't even comprehend that.

Maybe that was why powerful demigods died so young. The gods couldn't allow them to mature into their powers. Otherwise …

He was getting paranoid.

But if it had been a different time in the year, could he have inadvertently summoned an actual hurricane? Blizzards didn't really kill people, just caused a lot of trouble and maybe property damage (with any luck, Goode was having a few snow days and he wouldn't be too behind on homework).

But hurricanes were way worse. If he'd unleashed something like that … Percy wasn't sure what he would do. He couldn't comprehend doing that. Was this the consequence of him not being able to settle his emotions? He'd vented his anger into the sea, after his spat with Annabeth, not even thinking the rain as part of his rage. He wasn't meant to, supposed to - he didn't mean to create something of such _magnitude_.

Either way, Percy had to learn to control himself better. He couldn't afford to cause another nation-wide disaster. He'd been responsible for too many already.

And there he was in front of the cave that Rachel lived in during the summer. He stared at the purple curtain drawn across the mouth of the cave, the two torches at the entrance burning away as if they'd never been extinguished during the storm. It wasn't Greek fire, but for it seemed as if the cave front had never been touched by the storm. The drapes weren't even damp.

How was he supposed to get in? He could hardly knock, and yelling seemed extremely inappropriate. It felt like the storm had swept an unspoken quiet across the camp that no one was willing to break, not even nature itself.

Percy was about to leave and rethink what he was going to say when Piper slipped out from behind the curtains and muttered, "About time."

"Wha?" he asked, taken aback. "How'd you know I was here?"

He kept his voice quiet, all too aware of the gentle, agonizing sniffles from beyond the curtain.

"Katoptris," Piper answered bluntly, her beautiful features warped by her sharp accusing gaze. "Doesn't work very well anymore, but still. You'd better fix this, idiot. You're breaking her heart."

Percy sighed, tight and uncomfortable. "I'm breaking my heart too, you know?"

Piper's eyes softened, though her frown remained. "Why won't you even try? Sometimes even I get a little envious, seeing how close you two are. Long distance isn't impossible."

Percy smiled sadly. "No, it isn't. But even across Manhattan - the second one - we … it hasn't been working. I don't know."

It was Piper's time to sigh as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. "And I was hoping you knew what you're doing. I'll wait out here. Go … _talk_."

So he slipped through the gap between the sheets of purple, taking in the blank walls of white, the various funky sofas and pillows, and _Annabeth_ , curled up in the midst of far too cheerful colored pillows, eyes red and puffy as she stared at him, too, eyes frighteningly blank and empty, devoid of their stormy intelligence.

Percy swallowed. "Annabeth."

The only response he saw was for her to hug her legs tighter.

The silence was all the more unbearable as he tried to bring himself to approach her, to not scream in frustration or run away or break down. Whatever he did at this point, though, was going to _hurt_.

"I'm … I'm not the smart one, but I know - I know we can't leave it like this." Percy edged over to the couch opposite of Annabeth and slowly sits. "I - are we going to talk?"

Something flashed in his girlfriend's eyes. And softly, hoarsely … "Yes."

Percy closed his eyes and took a sluggish breath. "I … I love you so much, Annabeth." He savored her name in his mouth. "But I-"

He froze not wanting to voice the thought aloud. And again the world froze, the moment dragging as painful and excruciating as gorgon's blood poison. He forced the words through, biting and unintentionally vicious, but wounded. "I think we should - that we should break up."

And then she was crying, again _because of course of course it was again_ , but the tears were making their way down her face without a sound and the sight was all the more miserable because of it. She gasped out his name, his name, so raw and vulnerable, the two syllables that always made his spine tingle whenever he heard her say it instead of his nickname. "Percy …"

Except this time he shivered, flinched because the intensity had turned painful instead of pleasant. "I - we've known each other so long. So well. And I know you didn't intend to - to leave, at first, that you didn't plan for something else besides New Rome. And I wish so fucking badly that you told me when it happened. Because then maybe things would be different, and it wouldn't hurt so much knowing you had to go, and we wouldn't have had all those fights …"

And the tears were rolling down faster, fatter than before - on both their faces.

Percy clenched the pillow beneath his left hand, fingers trying to shear through the outer cover to tear out the stuffing within. "But maybe those would have happened anyways because we never really tried to be together normally before. Because it's always been from one quest to the next, never pulling off even just hanging out together without some monster dropping by. And fuck it to Tartarus, it's those things that make us so close."

"Percy …"

"But we want different things in life. Even when I'm trying to find the most normal life I can, you're off to greater heights. You're always looking to make this better, grander, bigger - and I can live with that, I love you because of that-" Percy coughed and swept away the tears watering away in his eyes. "But I don't want to hold you back. I love you too much to."

A violent sob shuddered through Annabeth as she covered her face with her hands, the sudden noise so very deafening compared to his lonesome dry shaky voice. "You idiot … I want _you_!"

In that moment, she dove across the little space between them, knocking him flat on the couch cushion as she wept into his chest. And he squeezed her tight, hugging her just as desperately as she hugged him. And she was babbling - "IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou, I can't imagine life without you, I was so LOST when you were gone, I don't want to live without you, IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou …"

And he could only pat her on the back as he cried with her, as all those dreams of living with her happily ever after in New Rome, or in a city, or wherever, faded away. Because her fatal flaw was her hubris - was being able to have everything, from building the world into something better to having her parents happy and in love to Luke reformed and good, _way back when_ -

"Why do you have to do this? Why do you have to be so stupid? Percy!"

But she couldn't have everything. She couldn't do everything. And he wasn't making her choose, or maybe he was, he didn't even know anymore, but being with him and staying in New Rome for so long and whatever would keep her from her dreams.

He wasn't making her choose.

He was choosing for her.

"No! I refuse! This can work!"

Because that was his fatal flaw. Because doing what was best for her didn't mean doing what she wanted him to do for her. Because she wouldn't have wanted him to fall into Tartarus with her, she would've let go and dropped without him and be happy that he survived while he lost his mind. Because he knew that going down and making their way to the Doors of Death would save her, even if it broke him and made her scared of him sometimes, like his Mom was scared of Gabe, fucking _Gabe_. Because he still loved her so much, and she still loved him so much, but she wanted other things and _couldn't let go_ _and kept hurting both of them, while he knew that whatever they did would hurt all the more, but losing each other would hurt the most only for so long -_

Only for so long, before the wounds scarred over and they could keep loving each other, but not as together, because then their wounds would have festered and broken them.

"I love you! IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIlo…"

They both saw the cracks, long before their fight a few days ago. They both refused to do anything about it, trying their best to remain happy while going about life, hurting themselves in hopes to keep the other happy, not acknowledging that doing so hurt the other the more so.

"I love you too, Annabeth," Percy murmured as Annabeth's voice died away, as she kept hiccuping into his shirt, hot tears turning cold on his chest. They could've dried off, but no, even her tears were precious, he wouldn't magic them away. "I love you forever."

 _But you can't have everything._

"Stay with me," she begged, voice quiet and slurred with fatigue. Her eyes were shadowed, half open at best as they pleaded with him. Evidently, she hadn't had much sleep … hadn't had enough sleep, because of him. "P-please, stay."

"I'm here, Annabeth." Percy tried (and failed) to drown out the feeling of guilt welling within him. He readjusted them onto the couch spooning her, her face to his chest. "I'm here."

It was as if those words were all she needed to hear, because she fell asleep soon after. And he held her for as long as he could, before his instincts screamed at him to leave before he couldn't. So he slipped out from under her embrace and gently set her down, then ducked into Rachel's room to snag a blanket and covered Annabeth. But as he returned and tucked her in, she softly whispered.

"Don't go."

For a moment, Percy thought she'd woken up and was about to keep him here until his stubbornness broke down before hers. But that wasn't the case.

Now who was talking in their sleep?

Fuck, he was crying again.

"I'm sorry," he whispered back. "I … I'm sorry."

"I love you."

And then he left, gone before he could no longer go. Gone before she whispered those words back to him and shattered him.

As Percy pushed through the curtains, he saw the last vestiges of day. The leftovers of the sunset, the last rays shining through even though the chariot itself was no longer visible. The colors were no longer as vibrant but still contrasted magnificently with the incoming darkness and grey-black clouds.

But after all that stress, after dealing with so many people … not even the view could soothe Percy's soul. He was too exhausted.

But he still had other people at camp to talk to. At least this someone could maybe help him. And he was already waiting patiently outside with Piper, standing resolutely on his four legs, face grim as if he'd known and had seen all this before.

"Chiron."

"Perseus. Piper … best of luck."

Piper nodded sadly, sent one last mournful glance to Percy, then slipped back into the cave.

With a shared glance, an unspoken agreement was formed, and the centaur and demigod made their way back to the Big House in silence.

There was something beautiful about the destruction, Percy decided. Something about the coming of night and whispering torches that shed light on a different side of what remained of the chaos, what remained after the storm. From the squelching soil, to the shimmering of ripples in puddles, to the still drenched cabins, to the empty open space only occupied by an eternal hearth that warmed his heart, despite everything.

For every storm, the calm.

Then they arrived. Percy stopped before the steps, even as Chiron ascended onto the patio and backed into his wheelchair.

The teacher looked tired and weary in his wheelchair, strength sapped by the endless years and brought low from all he'd witnessed. It was times like these where Percy wondered where Chiron found the willpower to live forever, just to teach demigods who lived only as tragedies.

The inconstant dripping of still more rainwater from the rooftop gutter filled the air between them. In a lull, Percy spoke. "Chiron … did I do the right thing?"

The centaur sighed, rubbing his temples before looking Percy in the eye. "I do not know what you did, Percy … but as long as you did what you know you will regret the least, then I stand behind you."

"... Thanks." That was all he could take. Percy left without another word.

Still, making his way into Cabin 3, he couldn't settle his disquieted soul. His body was begging for rest, stumbling clumsily left and right, and his mind felt foggier than Mount Tam. But he wasn't ready to let the day end.

Percy wanted to talk. After all that had happened, he wanted to talk without the world resting on his words or being criticized for what he was going to say. He wanted to talk to someone who wouldn't judge him, who wouldn't unintentionally bring in all the weight of his break-up.

He didn't feel like being questioned about his condition by any of the Seven, or any of his fellow campers that he'd come to know so well over the years. He wanted to wind down … but he still wanted company.

If Grover wasn't out and away, organizing things like the mature adult he was now, maybe. He missed the guy. Or Mrs. O'Leary - except she couldn't talk back to him, only give him the most mournful eyes that would only make him feel worse. That wasn't enough.

But … maybe … it was so late in the night, but California was time zones away.

He could call Luna.

He just wanted someone to talk to. Maybe she could help again.

With nary another consideration, he dug out a drachma, which soon passed into the multi-hued mist over the bubbling fountain against the wall. "Luna, New Rome."

Hopefully, Fleecy wouldn't be offended that he didn't feel up for saying more.

It took a few moments - moments of antsy anxiety as he wondered why it was taking so long. But then she shimmered in, head tilted to the side with confusion and curiosity, not a single strand of auburn hair out of place and the barest hint of a smile on her ethereal face. She appeared, just as he remembered her. "Hello, Perseus."

Percy returned the expression, lips tugging up ever so slightly. He probably looked like shit, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Hiya, Luna."

That didn't look like New Rome. Maybe that was why it took so long. He would have to apologize to Fleecy later, and thank her for the extra work.

"Are you alright?"

His tiny smile disappeared. "I just broke up with my girlfriend."

"... I'll take that as a no." Luna paused, nervously interlacing her hands. "Do … do you want to talk about it?"

"Sorta not really." He had, but he couldn't quite bring himself to explain everything anymore. Now that Luna was something besides someone completely unknown to unload onto, it was so much harder to tell her anything.

The girl frowned, silvery eyes far away and familiar. "... Would you rather just talk, then?"

He gave a genuine smile, a smile of relief. "I would like that."

For every cloud, a silver lining.

* * *

 _I am not what I used to be._


	5. Fantasy's Shadow

_There is that awful moment when you realize that you're falling in love. - Helen Mirren_

* * *

"Heya Luna, how ya been?"

"Well enough, Perseus. You?"

"School's been pretty shit, to be honest. The new book for English is so annoying to read."

"Hm? That being?"

" _The Stranger_ , by some French dude."

"Really? I've read it, found it quite enjoyable. Perhaps it isn't your type, though. Maybe you could tell me your thoughts when you finish?"

"Sure, I guess. The first few pages already have me hating the guy. Not as bad as Holden, I guess, but Meursault is a piece of work."

"Can you tell me about a book you did like, then?"

" _Great Gatsby_ from last year, I guess. Surprisingly, _1984_."

"You're serious? You might actually like _The Stranger_ then. What did you like from Orwell?"

"Oh, well …"

...

* * *

...

"… You have to come with me to one of their concerts one day."

"Absolutely not. Concerts are far too crowded and messy and loud. Judging by the genre of this … _Fall Out Boy_ , it is bound to be even worse."

"What music do you like, then?"

"Classical, mostly."

" _Really?_ "

"I do enjoy jazz, too."

"Ok, at least that we can talk about, then."

"I do like playing the piano."

"Oh?"

...

* * *

"Hey again. How's been?"

"Not very much. How about you, Perseus?"

"Same. I've been meaning to ask, though, since you mentioned that you play music - any other hobbies?"

"Oh. Um, reading-"

"Library assistant, surprise surprise."

"If you would not interrupt?"

"Yes, yes."

"Thank you. I suppose ... Horse-riding. I enjoy collecting trinkets and maintaining my personal belongings, if that counts. Other than that … nothing, really."

"You need to let me meet your horse one day. I could translate!"

"I never said I had my own horse, Perseus."

"Uh - heheh. Whoops."

...

* * *

...

"I still find History kinda a ridiculous class. I can't help but get distracted thinking about which historical figure was probably a demigod. And then wonder which current figures are demigods - like, is Barack Obama a demigod? Except he had two parents …"

"I know of a few, actually."

"Really? Who?"

"Bill Clinton, for a president. Only a minor god, though. John Lennon."

"I always knew I liked his music."

"Meh."

...

* * *

Percy emerged from the Goode High swimming pool with nary a ripple, breath steady and controlled.

Swimming was a good form of exercise, working out muscles all across the body. Except … well, a lot of his ingrained abilities made the activity a bit too easy. And he didn't like the unnatural feeling of chlorine tainted pools. And he never joined any sports teams or clubs due to … _reasons._

Nonetheless, he had to keep fit one way or another. And Percy preferred swimming to bodybuilding, he got plenty of the usual aerobic workout running from or chasing after monsters. If Paul was going to be nice enough to let him use his keys to use the school pool, he was going to. He was such a good stepdad, letting him break the law and all that.

Percy entered the locker room and rinsed himself off of all the nasty chlorine before snatching his towel from the hook he'd left it and making his way to his locker. Again, sure, he could just will himself dry. But there was that fuzzy enjoyment of a faceful of a fluffy towel that was undeniably enjoyable, an essential part of the experience. After that was the flurry of massaging movement for his messy hair, eyes closed as water danced its way free from him.

It was then that he noticed the Iris message before him - notably the image of Luna doing a spit-take at the sight of him and blushing in her rush to clean up her spill.

"Luna!" Percy exclaimed. So very convenient of her to call, if also so very unexpected. He'd been the one making the calls, not receiving. Not that that wasn't welcome - it was honestly about time. "I was planning to call you soon! What's up, how's things going?"

"W-why are you - you even wet?!" Luna stammered. Why was she so embarrassed? "Get dressed!"

"Hm? Oh! I went for a morning swim since senior year's kinda been stressful recently." It was a bit of an understatement. Trying to get at minimum B's in every class despite his ADHD/dyslexia was a pain, between homework and studying for subjects he was sure he wouldn't use practically in the future. "I keep getting behind because I _still_ keep getting sidetracked by helping demigods get to camp or fighting off a few monsters."

And wasn't that a mess too? It wasn't even good stress relief, even if it let out some of his frustrations. Killing monsters got him keyed up and then exhausted, not relaxed. And beyond the occasional visit from Nico, he didn't have any genuine friends in his non-demigod life. If Annabeth …

Following that train of thought wasn't worth getting into another slump again.

"At least I have all my credits for graduation already - don't have to worry about any of that crap." He snappily dried the rest of his upper body and cheated with his powers to dry his lower half. Percy had intended to change into underwear and shorts, but he could hardly strip with her watching, and he wasn't going to wait an hour for his swim trunks to dry. "And it's not like I've never gotten wet before, y'know. Before I was a demigod, at least. It would've been very strange when I went swimming and didn't get wet. Also, it just doesn't feel right not getting wet when swimming, y'know?"

Percy snatched his shirt from his locker. It was purple, probably a leftover from Camp Jupiter. He hadn't paid attention to what clothing he'd brought to change into. He dried the towel before tossing it into the locker with the now extra clothes, only bothering to fish out the few essentials from the pockets - keys and wallet and Riptide. He'd deal with the rest when he came back.

He quickly slipped on his shirt and sandals before returning his attention to Luna. Where exactly was she? It looked like a restaurant booth, though the lighting was so dim he wasn't couldn't tell for sure. For all he knew, she was still in a nightclub, or their time zone difference was that extreme and the sun hadn't risen for her yet. She was drinking something, though.

"Hey, is that a blue drink?" asked Percy, peering closer. He would have liked Luna all the more so just for the color, but why? It could have been magical, but then it probably would've glown. That meant- "Luna … is that alcohol?"

Luna hesitated for a second, thrown off guard by the question and unsure how to answer without incriminating herself. Not that he was that concerned that she was drinking, or had anyone to report her two. Hell, he'd once snuck half of one of Ugly Gabe's beers before draining the rest down the sink, so he didn't have any leg to stand on to accuse her of underage drinking. No, he was more concerned as to _why_ she was even drinking, to begin with.

" _Memento Mori_. A house special." Luna recited. It took him a moment to realize that she was saying the name of the cocktail, like _Sex on the Beach_ or _Snowball_. He frowned, suddenly concerned.

Cocktails weren't known for being especially alcoholic, but Percy was pretty sure he was seeing at least 3 bottles on the table. The name of the drink wasn't giving him any comfort either. _Remember you must die_? What in the world drove her to drink something called _that_?

By the gods, if Luna didn't fit that lovely lonely lady drinking away her problems aesthetic. Disheveled but undeniably beautiful, clothing frumpy but fitting, and sipping at a glass while looking out the window, eyes distant and mournful. "Are you ok, Luna?"

Of course she wasn't. But Percy had to get the ball rolling somehow. His friend smoothed her hair back anxiously, then sighed. "I don't … I don't want to talk about it."

The dead silence, between the empty school and the dark bar, was unnerving. Normally it was him talking when they called. Luna for the most part only asked questions, quipped away, or gave commentary whenever she saw fit, rarely talking about herself. He was still waiting for the day she really opened up, fine as he was with filling the silent air with his talk for the moment. But now … he knew not what to say.

School, family, demigod life - what were they in the face of a friend who was hurting? A friend he didn't know much about, a friend he'd only made so recently, but a dear friend nonetheless. A friend he called once a week, which was once more than most friends from Camp Half Blood anyway (especially given the uncertainty regarding Annabeth and the other Seven).

For the most part, beyond the life, the future he was trying to forge himself and the hours and days sacrificed for that venture, Luna was there to help him unwind. Perhaps it was a bit one-sided, treating her as an outlet to talk to, but she hardly seemed to mind, even asking for more details.

And now whatever guard she hid behind was visibly shattered, leaving only an empty core and haunted eyes. Time to return the favor.

Percy shifted forward, deciding. "Lemme just -" He tapped the surface of the projection, sending the Iris Message flickering, before bending to his will. He hadn't certain he was able to, but he could manipulate the mist sustaining the call to follow him. The 'screen' followed him as he slouched to the ground, wanting to sit with Luna. Standing felt too formal. If she didn't want to talk about her problem … "Do you still want to talk about something else?"

She nodded slowly, silver eyes trained on his, a hint of something he couldn't place behind the veil. "Yes. But …"

"Hm?" Percy straightened, focused now that he had a path forward.

"Let's … let's … just talking. Nothing …"

"Sensitive?" It was so very strange to hear Luna so very uncertain and mellow. She looked and acted exactly as the Hunt did, in his opinion. Confident, self-assured, intelligent, touchy, and misandrist - but with hidden depths that revealed themselves with time. Whatever could have hurt her so?

"Sure," Luna agreed, sipping her drink. "Like … if you could have anyone as a dinner guest, who?"

Percy stifled a chuckle, attempting to preserve the atmosphere. "So, icebreakers?"

"What? It makes you think, doesn't it?" Luna retorted.

Yes, that was exactly the thing. A good icebreaker was never simple, far more introspective and deep if just the right question. The most basic ones weren't too sensitive, but if answered truthfully would give volumes away about some very core things about yourself. It was how he could get a quick grasp of many new campers, something about psychology taught to him by … by his ex.

"You think of the next one then." Luna continued, affronted. There was that spirit.

"Yeah, I think I can do better," smiled Percy inoffensively, nonetheless amused by the banter. "Hm … someone to eat with? I suppose … does it have to be a dinner guest?"

Luna had changed the premise of the question. It was supposed to be with someone from history, of which he probably would've picked himself, to give his naive spunky younger self some much needed (if not heeded) advice. But if she was going to change it, he would want to change it more.

"What do you mean?" Luna asked suspiciously, though her mild intoxication along with downing the rest of her glass deadened the effect.

"What about being the guest of someone else's dinner? Like, I'd honestly want to drop in on a god's meal than invite them to eat with me," Percy explained. "Or just, even, y'know, having a meal. Nothing big and fancy, just food."

It wasn't as if he knew how to cook anything great or had the money to have some grand dinner. So much the better to drop in on someone with better stuff to eat than he. And a lunch would be far more casual than some sort of sticky situation like a dinner.

"Which god or goddess?" she asked. She'd picked up on the subtext. Percy had said god, because in the end he wanted to eat with his Father one day. And he would, screw the Ancient Rules. They'd been broken enough as of recently anyway.

"Well … actually, I don't think I'd want to eat with any god except Father." Get that out of the way. But that was going to happen - he was going to make it happen, so that wouldn't be his strict answer. "For goddesses … pretty much the same, too. I would say Hestia, if I didn't already do that. Maybe Artemis, then?"

That answer certainly got a reaction out of Luna. What say, he was a surprising person. "I think you need to elaborate on that."

"Yeah, that might sound a bit strange." Eating with the goddess who hated men the most? No shit. "Well, I really haven't seen gods eat anything besides ambrosia and nectar at parties, or Mr. D eating grapes and drinking Diet Coke. And Diet Pepsi that one time."

He was going off track. "Anyway, most of the gods don't like me, or I'd rather not eat with, so there's only Father. Like, I can't even imagine Hephaestus needing to eat." Percy shook his head to dispel the strange image of the blacksmith god crunching down a few nuts and gears and downing it with machine oil. "And the same goes for most of the goddesses. Only Hestia do I feel would be kind enough, but, as I've said, I've already eaten with her. Still do sometimes at camp, actually."

"The only other goddess I could think of that tolerates me enough is Artemis, and I'm actually a bit curious as to whether she eats along with her Hunters during meals, so …" He respected her, she respected him enough to call him a man even if he still felt like a child. She seemed the most down-to-earth out of all the other Olympians (besides his Father and Hestia, but why else did he like them so much?), and he could maybe visit Thalia and have some good food from a non-monster hunt.

It said some strange things about him, that out of everyone, _everyone_ , the people he would most want to eat with would be his own dad or the goddess that arguably disliked males most of all. "So I guess my dad or Artemis? I think that's good enough. And how about you have to answer your own question too?"

It took a moment for her to process, but the resulting answer is short and snappy and surprising most of all. "You."

Percy blinked, forcing down his blush. Hot damn. "Aw, cute," he tried jibed with a tiny lopsided smirk. "I'm touched."

And he was. Out of everyone, him? Surely she had someone she placed higher in life? Maybe she was lying, bullshitting him or giving him an answer she thought he would like or something. But it didn't feel like she was lying, and she seemed drunk enough to be honest if not insensate, given that she was blushing so very madly at her seemingly unintended confession. "What's wrong with that? We've only been in each other's presence once, and talked over a distance. It would be nice to meet in person again!"

"No, no, I get it, I get it," Percy said, his smile growing. She was actually telling the truth. "Seriously, though. Touching. Should I change my answer to being you, then, too?"

"What are you trying to say?" she asked, avoiding his eyes. Dam, the embarrassed side of her was just a treat to witness.

"Good point. We'll see each other again at the Summer Solstice, won't we? Why not meet up? We can always plan for something then." Because why not?

"Fine, fine," Luna tried to dismiss, before changing topics altogether. "How about back to now?"

There wasn't a no, at least. "My turn to make a question?"

She nodded.

"What about … hm." He had plenty of favorites that were much more telling, but starting off with a simple one was best. "What about: would you want to be famous?"

"And that's any better the question I asked?" scoffed Luna.

"Well," shrugged Percy. It wasn't about being better since both of them were asking different things. "Less cheesy for sure."

Luna hmphed, trailing a finger over the rim of her cocktail. "I have no interest in fame. What's so great about being famous? There are too many expectations that come with it."

Well shit. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten a 'no,' but the reasoning from those people was that they were too scared or were introverted. Luna was presenting an entirely different angle.

"It's not like you need to meet those expectations," countered Percy, for the sake of argument more than anything else. "Isn't there a good number of people who are famous for just being themselves?"

Luna scoffed, raising an affronted eyebrow. "Then instead of being believed to be someone they're not, they're pigeonholed to be the same person forever. I imagine you enjoy it when it happens to you, Son of the Earthshaker, Defeater of Kronos, Hero of Olympus? Any other title I might be missing? One of the Seven? Gaia's Ba-?"

"Touché," Percy interrupted, acknowledging her point. Being treated as so amazing by other demigods never felt right. He was just another one of them. "Yeah, agreed. Point made, not so fun. Though people are already starting to stop caring. Old news and all that." A fair bit of the newer demigods had absolutely no perspective on exactly what he'd done, so didn't care. It was almost refreshing. "I'm not _that_ popular. So, your turn for a question again, then?"

Without hesitation: "Do you have a hunch as to how you'll die?"

"Huh." That question was _not_ expected. Not something he really wanted to answer, either. He eyed Luna suspiciously. What was with her and her death fixation today? Still, she was his friend. She asked, she deserved an answer.

"After all the stress demigod life has given me, I wouldn't be surprised to die in my sleep. Something anticlimactic and ironic," admitted Percy readily. "Especially with the prophecy schist done with, I can imagine dying peacefully and not to some huge calamity. Don't even have to imagine what it would like to be, dying in some fight. It's honestly something I've thought about a little before."

Her turn. She delayed, fiddling with the stem of her glass and … and ordering another round if he interpreting her raising the glass and looking elsewhere right. Where was she to be served unquestioningly despite her age? Finally, she answered. "I can't imagine how I'd die, honestly."

"Really? Nothing?" Percy cocked an eyebrow at Luna's slow nod. What a cop-out. Sure, most people didn't think about this sorta thing, but she'd asked the question first. He wasn't going to push, though, judging from her current state.

"Well, aren't you special?" he teased, trying to lighten the mood but only getting a shrug in return. "My turn again, then. Hm … if you gained a single thing overnight, what would it be?"

"Thing?" Did she just take the entire drink mixer from the bartender?

"Like, ability. Superpower? Guess it could be an object if you really want." Percy clarified. "How about this: if you could get any one thing, what would it be? Literally anything."

Luna measurably poured out her drink, considering his query. Maybe he'd ramped things up too quickly, but to be fair, she had literally just asked how he thought he would die. Icebreakers being non-invasive non-personal questions his ass. Sure, his question was pretty usual in terms of icebreakers, but he was asking what she wanted most in life.

"Jewelry. Something simple, but elegant and high quality. Unique."

"Really?" She had to be lying. "I thought you didn't like any jewelry stuff. Like, I don't remember ever seeing you wear any."

"No, I don't," she asserted. "I don't like the weight. But if it was good enough … maybe something small. A pop of color? I don't know. Never thought much about it."

She hummed, mulling over her answer as she stared into her drink. She added one last requirement. "If it was perfect, then yes. I don't know what it would be, but if it was perfect, I would wear it."

This wasn't what she wanted most. Percy was sure of that. Definitely something she wanted - she did want something like this, he could believe it. Something deep-seeded, something she's considered before and considered shameful and brought forth by alcohol, but definitely not what she wanted most. There was no way the girl he'd befriended these past months would want _jewelry_ over anything else, as remarkable that one thing had to be.

Nonetheless, Percy shuffled that under a potential gift idea. He would have to ask when her birthday was at some point. Not today, though, for the same reasons he wouldn't accuse her of lying.

"What about you?"

If she lied, he would lie too.

"I actually really miss my invincibility. I did tell you about that, right? Y'know, from the Styx." He ruffled his hair uncomfortably, adrenaline rushing through him from the fib not letting him stay still. He pushed himself to his feet, gesturing to his chest all the while. "I barely had it for like a year, and it sure as Hades was tiring, but it was so nice to be untouchable when fighting. It was almost like being a god, without all the baggage."

He shrugged, trying to pass off his answer even as he headed off to his stepfather's classroom. "Well, beyond the tiny little problem of my Achilles' heel. 'Course, power always comes with a price, so I guess that made sense? But something like that again - or better than that - would be nice."

This was something he definitely wanted - it would be convenient, to have that power. But just like immortality, that came with a sacrifice. And what he wanted most …

What he wanted most was to be hanging out with Annabeth again, instead of hanging around his high school on a Sunday morning. For her not to have hidden things from him and hurt him and made things so uncertain.

Percy regretted a lot of things he said since he last saw Annabeth. He'd been called twice by her since then, of which both he'd immediately swiped apart when he'd seen it was her. He still wanted a life with her, but it just hurt him so fucking much that she'd rejected part of it. That part he could have dealt with, but then she hadn't for half a year and soured their relationship by keeping that secret.

He just didn't know what to do with her right now. He wished he knew how to. No, he didn't want to be hanging out with Annabeth right now, not if that wasn't the right thing. What he wanted most was to know whether what he did was right, whether breaking up was the right move, if that was something temporary before they both learned or for forever. Whether they would ever be friends again if the latter, and how to deal with everyone that knew both of them and could not be awkward.

"Just a quick question - not part of our game - where in the world did you find an open swimming pool in New York City on a Sunday morning, with no one around?"

"Oh," laughed Percy, shoving his torment deep within him. "I was gonna argue that that wasn't fair, but that I can get. I, uh, kinda have a copy of some of my stepdad's keys to school, just in case. Since he knows about the whole demigod thing, he understands that I should probably have some, just in case. I think you can figure it out from there. I'm heading to his classroom right now."

If only everyone was as understanding as his stepdad (or his mom, but that was a different matter).

Percy fell quiet, waiting for her actual question. Except the next one wasn't. "Follow up question - what were you implying about invulnerability and gods having baggage?

"I guess that's another question that doesn't count?" Percy sighed. And here he thought he was finally going to learn more about her, except he was just explaining everything about himself again. She was a great listener and has interesting insights on what he said, but he was for _her_ to talk. "Well, you already know about me choosing not to be immortal. Even the reas- even why I chose not to be."

Fuck. "But even without her in the picture, what about everything else? I still want to live, well, a _normal_ life, or as _normal_ as it could be. Dying's a part of that. And what about friends and family? And well - like, I already have a friend who's basically immortal. Dam, it's going to be weird being older than Thalia in a few years. Wait - no, I'm already older than her - wow. It's going to be the strangest thing in ten, twenty years."

Percy couldn't imagine where he would be in a decade, let alone two. He was going to the college in New Rome undeclared. What was he going to do in life, where would he be? No wonder Annabeth went for her internship, he had no real plans for his future. But uncertainty was better than immortality, better than _fate_.

"And don't get me started on fighting - schist, I don't want to do that forever. If anything, I might end up like Eurytion - he runs a ranch, don't get me started on that. Like, gods be damned, I've had my time already. My shtick is done. I don't want to be stuck forever - you know, it's probably worse than being famous, being immortal." He let out another plaintive sigh. He was already tortured enough by his choices now. Imagine dealing with that forever, if he didn't forget like every other god. And was forgetting worse? "Immortality is a curse, not a blessing."

"What are you most grateful for?"

"My mom," Percy replied immediately, oddly grateful that Luna asked a completely different question so quickly, even though that implied she didn't care for the previous topic. This one was at least something he was more comfortable with. The previous question had felt like he was venting about an issue, even if he had kept all his worries hidden as subtext. "I wouldn't be here without her. And I don't just mean her giving birth to me, because she sacrificed so much for me up until I learned I was a demigod. And even after that. No contest."

He slowed in his gait for a moment, squinting in thought as some pressing feeling made itself known. Something was off, but he wasn't sure and definitely couldn't place it - some sixth sense tickling his spine. He shrugged and resumed his walk. "I feel like I'm forgetting something. I'm sure I'll remember if it's important. Anyways, you?"

Their questions were really intimate even for supposed icebreakers. As long as Luna answered them more truthfully, though, it would be worth it.

After another mouthful of alcohol and consideration, her answer was … a bit strange. "I am … I am most grateful for my abilities. I don't know who I'd be without them."

"Wow. Philosophical. You are what you do?" On the flip side, it meant that she considered no person she knew as relevant enough in her life to be grateful to. Which meant she was either self-absorbed, or she genuinely didn't have a person worth being grateful to in all of her life. Percy wasn't sure which one was worse. And … "What abilities are you talking about? Mist manipulation?"

From what Percy remembered, she did some magic attack, fixed a hole in his shirt, and conjured a jacket for herself. He wasn't sure what sorcery really entailed. Luna didn't seem interested in explaining any more either, simply waving her hand dismissively at his attempt for clarification. "Something like that."

"Mhm…" Percy stopped before a door, waiting for more even though he expected none. Because she really seemed too inebriated to truly lie, but evidently not inebriated enough to tell everything. expectantly. At least he'd gotten some information from her answer, if not the core details. "Let's do a fun question."

Percy yawned, trying to cover his mouth even as he stretched his arms up into the air. Waking up early wasn't his thing, especially with all the late nights in prep for the last tests before spring break. But he'd needed the swim, so here he was, the last vestiges of sleep falling away after his dip. He took the moment to really consider how to dial their conversation back to something simpler. Maybe clarifying what he thought her previous answer implied?

"When's the last time you sang to yourself? By yourself? Or with slash to someone else, for that matter?" The Son of Poseidon chuckled nervously, not sure how this question would take. This one wouldn't tell him much about anything new, but he was trying to get into safer territory. "I'm not the only one that does something as stupid as singing to myself, am I?"

On a basic level, he was supposed to learn to what degree she enjoyed music or what type. And for the someone else part, it would maybe hint at whether there was anyone she was close enough to to even sing with them. He already knew the first part, so what of the second? She did like some music with song lyrics, so with radio and every sort of hip-hop rap r&b whatever music, how could she not? Just hanging out with some friend, going along with the radio?

"Well, I don't, so maybe you are that stupid," said Luna, tone half-heartedly teasing. "And I don't like singing to others."

Except that she didn't, so that was all the more concerning. Maybe her friends all only listened to classical music. Her not singing because she played the piano made some sense, although piano was one of those instruments you could sing with? She wasn't one of those people that just didn't like music, even though she said she used to be. Worst of all was if she didn't have anyone close enough to sing with - sing to was maybe awkward, but at least with.

"Hey - it's a lot more interesting to listen to underwater, ok?" Percy protested mechanically as he searched for the right key to open the classroom door. Not that he was going to mention how much he loved the albums his mom would put on now that Gabe wouldn't smash the vinyls and how many songs he'd learned through sheer osmosis. "Not my fault other people don't hear it the same way. It sounds so much different."

Luna shook her head. "And to others?"

"I think the last Camp Half-Blood campfire counts for with others." Singing to someone? Not quite yet.

"Fine." The sloshing sounds of the Luna's mixer cuts through the conversation, alcohol and ice swirling within. The conversation was taking a downturn compared to the initial energy. "Do you rehearse what you say before you talk with someone?"

"Hm?" Her question is also far less probing than before. Not that there wasn't potential deeper meaning, of course. It was pretty binary - were you the type of person to prepare for things or were you the opposite? Nothing set in stone, since how you prepared to just talk with people didn't mean the same for everything, but it was still fairly indicative.

"Not really. Only for really important things, but besides that I prefer to go with the flow." He unlocked the door and slid in with practiced silence. And since no one else was here, Percy spun into the plush swivel chair behind the front desk, the one he was sure Paul was teasing him with whenever he rolled around on it while teaching. "The first few calls with you, actually."

"First few?" The silver of her eyes transfixed hypnotically upon him. "Why'd you stop?"

"Because exactly planning out a conversation doesn't really work out sometimes," he admitted freely, however embarrassed he may be by it. "The first one didn't really count because you were busy with … whatever. But even the other times I could tell you were a bit uncomfortable with the chat I had sorta thought out the next two times. My fault, never really tried to get to know someone long distance before, so I planned on talking about certain stuff which didn't really work out. But I've always been better at improvising anyways, so no loss."

Hell, everything right now was couldn't have been any more unscripted, with her calling him and the strange topics they were venturing too but almost genuinely sharing. For that matter … "Did you rehearse before calling me?"

"... No." Luna's answer didn't surprise him at all - if she had the brainpower to plan that far ahead while drunk, that would be something. The second half of the answer surprised him a bit. "I don't usually call people at all."

But then again, she was Roman. Camp Jupiter had letters and runners as their primary form of communication. And phones were monster magnets, Greek or Roman.

Though with the number of monsters he found every week, Percy was seriously considering just getting a phone. Not having to spend a drachma or find a bloody payphone (or dream them) every time he wanted to talk to someone would be nice. Texting especially.

"Eh. Maybe the problems are because of the long distance thing. It's different only talking and not actually doing stuff together, isn't it?" Percy offered as an explanation. What else did he know, given that all the friends he'd ever made were forged in matters of life and death? He winked, trying to lighten the mood. "But hey, we're still trying, aren't we?"

And then Luna tossed up her glass, the rest of the cocktail drained down her throat as if nothing. Her face glowed from all the drinks she'd had.

"You ok there, Moonbeam?" Percy asked, concern getting the better of him as her usually sharp eyes struggle to properly focus on him.

Luna rubbed the bridge of her nose, distant and tired. "I will be."

"Feeling better?" he asked hesitantly.

And with a glance, suddenly all too aware and vicious, the cheer built up between them came crashing down. Her response, hardly a mutter but still too audible, is bitter and caustic. "Not anymore."

Just with that, gods be damned, his tolerance snapped in two, and Percy glared right back, before turning away and disregarding her. If she was going to be like that - "Shall I go then?"

Even as Luna's anger wilted into confusion and hurt, he turned away. If she wasn't going to decide, wasn't going to say something, the last of his control over his temper would snap, and he didn't want to cause another nationwide disaster.

"See you another time then." His hand swept through the mist.

"Wait!"

Luna's cry was heartrending, but that wasn't what stopped him. Percy glanced back to the Iris message, where his hand was stopped in its track by silver strands of light, weaved within the mist emanating their wispy glow. And through the slivers of shattered connection left, he met her eyes … eyes, which in their silver hue, reminded him so much of another. Eyes full of mourning, pleading, regret, self-loathing, pain, confusion …

"What?" His one word came out like a bite, sharp and cutting, aiming to tear through their hazy connection. He didn't move his hand, still ready to just leave-

"Stay," Luna begged quietly. "Please."

And Percy realized that it would be too terribly hypocritical of him to walk out on her when she sought advice, after what she'd provided him. That there was no way he would leave a friend who needed his help - who asked for his help. Slowly, slowly, his eyes still locked on hers, he withdrew his hand. And with a circular gesture atop torn Iris-Message, the droplets within the video call smooth over. With it, Luna's normally radiant features are thrown back into clarity - the weariness in her slouch, tears barely held back, the barest quiver at the lips. But the thing still held the most of his attention was her eyes - the window to the soul.

Percy couldn't help but hate the feelings welling within himself, the memories of loss that are oh so fresh and related _but not Luna and it would not do to unfairly associate things with her and fuck all-_

"I apol - I'm sorry." Luna's sudden apology, her voice so excruciatingly tight and frightened that it shook Percy out of his reverie.

"For what?" His words were still taut with restrained emotion, holding back everything that Luna didn't deserve to hear from him.

"I … I shouldn't have emptied out my emotions on you." She shoved her half-empty drink to the side and pushed her hands into her lap.

It was the distinct refusal of alcohol and her following earnest gaze that helped him not want to go out and flood the school, that made him truly feel guilty for his sudden burst of anger towards her.

Melancholy, his own regrets and resignations washed over him, and he slumped back into the chair. "It - you didn't say very much. I'm sorry too. I overreacted."

Her face betrayed her agreement with his first statement, but she met him halfway. "It still wasn't fair for me to do that."

"Me too, though," Percy tried to organize his thoughts into words. "I just - it's just … I want to help. I want to be here for you and help you. That is … if you want it."

He pulled out Riptide and began to spin it between his fingers, trying to work out his anxiety. "But it didn't seem like I was. Even with our talk … you're still focused on whatever's troubling you. You're bullshitting your questions. I'm not really helping."

Those words seem to strike her as if she hadn't even noticed that she was closing herself off so much to him. Hades, she was worse than Nico. But the cracks were showing, tears beginning to well up and run down her face as she stared at him, no longer any alcohol to divert her attention.

"So you're still hurting, and you didn't want to talk about it. But at the same time, you aren't really into what we were talking about either," Percy elaborated. He looked past Luna, to the bar behind her, remembering how his very own words applied to himself. How it was probably this most of everything that drove Annabeth and him apart, that she kept things from him and the ever so slow and steady wedge that created. "And at that point, it's probably better for me not to be here."

"I can't help you if you don't want help, or to talk." He tapped his pen on the empty desk before him, agitated. His relationship with Luna wasn't something like what he had with Annabeth - others would barely even label them as friends yet. But healthy communication was important. He knew that all too well by this point. "Like, it's fine if you want to sort this out yourself. But then you don't need me. And if you want me just to be here - well, don't - don't just try to talk some empty crap. I don't want to waste any time on shit that doesn't help."

Might as well bring out the big guns. "Annabeth and I broke up over this, did I mention that?" He laughed bitterly, trying and failing to pass it off casually. "No, I didn't. Only that we broke up. Been through Tartarus together, but … we can't talk about anything properly anymore."

"I - I'm sorry," Luna repeated. She wiped away a few tears. "I …"

"Oh, it's not _that_ bad … we got along fine. Just … with everything, there was some trust issues. We couldn't say as much to each other as we used to, and it … it just messed with things." Percy sighed miserably. Because in the end, what were the problems between him and his ex? Simple things - simple things which should have had an easy fix but he couldn't get past. Nonetheless … "Who knows. Things change, we might get back together - maybe? We need space right now."

"But that's enough about me, yeah?" Percy smiled halfheartedly. He'd brought up Annabeth for an example, not to whine about his own problems. It was his turn to help out Luna, if she would only let him. "Just - communication is the most important thing. Right now, it's about me being here for you. If you just want a friend - well, I'll gladly sit here for as long as you need, even if it's in complete silence and I'm just watching you drink. But-"

He lowered his head into his hands, rubbing his eyes. It was really too early in the day to for something like this. "And if you want to just talk about anything, to distract yourself - fine. If it works, it works. It's not healthy, but since when did demigods care about healthy habits?"

"But if you feel like talking … _actually_ talking … well, I'll be waiting, forever and a day." Percy lifted his head and gazed into her eyes and soul. "Your choice - you tell me."

He doesn't want to force anything. He really barely knew her beyond the most basic and visceral of details: who else did she know? What was her life actually like? Why didn't she have anyone else she could turn to? But the last thing was probably the key. It close to the only real thing he'd gleaned throughout their talk: Luna was lonely. And for her to call him instead of any of her other possible acquaintances …

It really sounded twisted that he wanted to know what hurt her. But he wanted that so he could help. If she didn't … all he could do was hope for the best. This was up to her.

"One … one of my …" Luna began, before hesitating, lost in memory. "One of my close friends died."

The second half came blurting out, and the gates holding back the majority of her tears were lifted. She brushed them away desperately, doing her best not to let her crying interfere with her confession. "I've known her for so long."

Percy kept as quiet and still as possible, not wanting to interrupt either.

"It's not - it's not that I haven't had people close to me die before." Luna's laugh was like walking on shards of glass. "Be-because that sounds so much better."

Slowly, ever so slowly, she slouched forward into the table, no longer able to hold herself up in her sheer distraught. "With everything in the last few years, so many of my friends have died," Luna quietly wept into her arms. "And so many more died in the Second Giant War."

"I- I- I just wasn't prepared for another to die."

Her answer cut far too close to home. No wonder she hadn't gone to her other friends - with what circumstances coming between her and whoever, because of personal conflicts. So going to him for comfort or reassurance or whatever she sought … it was like looking into a mirror.

Luna raised her head, still wiping at her face, her teary silver irises searching expectantly for some answer, some response from him.

And he faltered. Percy couldn't imagine one of his friends dying to some routine monster. Everyone he'd mourned had died too much like a hero. Bianca, Michael, Luke, Leo … he didn't want to think of any of the Seven dying before they got old and had grandkids to spare. "What … what can I say?" Percy leaned forward, yearning to comfort her but finding nothing. "This is just how demigod life is, thank the gods for that." He winced at his unintended sarcasm - that was not going to help. But that was their life, what could they do about it, as mortals tied to gods? "Shit … what can I say that you haven't already thought of? I don't think I can say anything that you haven't already told yourself, Luna … fuck. Gods - what do you want me to say? To do?"

Luna sniffed, finding a tissue from somewhere to help clean up. "Anything," -she hiccuped- "nice to hear."

Percy sighed despondently. "Oh, Luna …" He didn't have a good track record for that. Telling Nico about Bianca, fighting Annabeth over Kronos's resurrection through Luke, his silent agreement with those who hoped Leo was still alive but not wanting to have his hope quashed. "They - she? They wouldn't want you to be unhappy. They probably went to Elysium. You might see them again there …"

That comment only seemed to make things worse as Luna choked down a sob, so he trailed off. Maybe she didn't think their life good enough to get in? Or didn't think she'd make it herself? Crap, bad angle.

… A different one, then. Percy started speaking, not even sure where he was going even as he began. "Shit. Talking … I'm not good with that. Talking alone never helps, it's never just the talking. Just - just being there helps. And I … I wish I could be there for you right now. I am, sort of, yes, but I mean there _with_ you. Physically there and all. You look like you need - um - you look like you need a hug, and -"

 _ ***BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP**_ *****

The words flowing out of his mouth are interrupted by the phone on the teacher's desk, and he jerks back, almost uncapping Riptide in preparation for battle before the sound stops, before starting again. It had to be Paul, no way in hell anyone would call. He took a quick look back to Luna - her eyes are wide, shining with will and light again. He would finish this fast. He checked the number - it looked something like Pauls - and picked it up.

"Percy! Shit, we need to buy you a phone I wasn't sure calling this number would work you need to get to the hospital now! Sally's going into labor, I've already got her here-"

Percy's jaw dropped. "What?"

"Yes! Come on, do you want to miss your sister being born? Get your ass over here, you already know which hospital!" And then Paul hung up, even as Percy heard the hint of one of his mother's birthing wails. That wasn't a sound he wanted to hear again, his mother screaming in pain - but his sister?

He fucking _knew_ he'd forgotten something important.

Percy dropped the phone carelessly back into place, turning back to the Iris Message. Luna … Luna was looking gorgeous, her tear streaked face turned to the window next to her, the morning light brightening her complexion. "I'm so sorry, Luna, I got to go," he babbled, leaping out of his chair. "My mom's at the hospital, you called and then I forgot it was so close to her being due and Paul's been trying to f-"

"Due?"

"Yeah!" Oh yeah, he never told her. "Damn, I forgot you didn't know, my mom's having a baby!"

What else could due mean? Luna looked as shocked and alive as he felt, and her voice was all the stronger. "Well, what are you waiting for? Go - go celebrate life. I'll …" she swallowed thickly. "I'll be ok."

Right. Her friend. The conversation before Paul's bomb drop came back to mind. Percy bounced in place, impatient to go. But … he looked at Luna. He couldn't drive and keep up the call. He couldn't go. "No. Not yet."

He plopped straight back down into the chair, even as Luna straightened, shocked by his decision. "But- no, you're getting a sibling, don't waste your time with me, hurry and go, what are you doing?"

"Oh, lovely Luna," Percy said, confident in his choice to stay. "Why would my time with you ever be a waste, Moonbeam?"

It wasn't like he wanted to see the actual birth. That would be too weird. He would be there for his sister - but he had time. Time for Luna.

A wet laugh escaped his friend, beautiful and bubbling and alive and _happy_. "Don't be asinine! This - this can wait. I'm, I'm already feeling better. You've helped. A lot. Thank - thank you."

"Hm …" This time he believed her, even as she hid her blushing face in her hands. She actually felt better, whatever he did. But … he couldn't let things go just like that. "You're sure. But no, still, I'll call you soon," Percy promised. "Tonight."

He smiled at her, and she smiled back. He dissolved the mist without another word, letting the rainbow projection collapse.

Because that smile terrified and excited him, on top of the prospect of a baby sister.

For all the cliche in the world, it was right then, when she smiled, that he fell in love.

* * *

 _Author's Note_

Supermoon on the first day of 2018. How lovely.


	6. felix culpa

_One morning, about four o'clock, I was driving my car just about as fast as I could. I thought, Why am I out this time of night? I was miserable, and it came to me: I'm falling in love with somebody I have no right to fall in love with. - June Carter Cash_

* * *

Percy had had his share of life experiences. Grew up in New York, survived an abusive stepfather, killed a few monsters, made friends and comrades-in-arms, had a girlfriend, and saved the world a few times. Just a few. And he was just about graduating high school soon.

Y'know, life.

None of those experiences ever prepared him to hold his little sister in his arms.

She was so _tiny_.

Daphne - and what a wonderful name that was, it fit her perfectly - looked so much like their mother. The facial structure was almost exactly on point, only a touch rounder from Paul's influence. Or maybe because she was just barely half a day old yet and all babies had round heads, what was he supposed to know? And there was her little shock of silky soft hair - not that it was so much nicer to caress and hold than her skin. At least, so much as he got to feel, with Daphne being swaddled up so tightly in her blanket like a burrito.

But besides her cute little face - the cuteness of a child before growing up to be as beautiful as her mother - it was her gorgeous blue eyes that entranced him. Daphne was half asleep at this point (mom had breastfed her not too long ago, while Paul was with her and letting him take care of Daphne. Percy was just on the other side of the room, not wanting to disturb his parents - both his mother and stepdad were asleep, more than exhausted). Her eyes were fluttering, still doing their best to stay open and see the world. Wonderful, naive curious little eyes trying to take in all they could see now that they were no longer crying for sustenance. And her irises were just the _clearest_ shade of blue, just like his mothers. Apparently, all babies were supposed to be born with blue eyes, before whatever pigmentation set in - but Percy was sure that Daphne's eyes would be that crystal perfect shade of blue all her life.

"You really should go to sleep, Daph," Percy murmured to her. Daphne bubbled back at him, mouth moving, but hardly making a sound, even as she curled and twisted in his arms. Hm … he really wasn't supposed to, but it felt like she wanted to be free. "Just a little, then."

Pulling up an extra blanket to first cover them both, just to make sure that no warmth would be lost, Percy undid the tight bundle so his sister could at least move her arms. And move them she did - there was no real force or intent behind the movement, as aimless as her eyes roved the room. Hopefully he wasn't imagining that he held a lot of her attention. Maybe that was because he was talking to her though.

"How would you like to meet my friend?" he asked Daphne, setting his fingers in her palm. She grasped it immediately, gripping it as 'tightly' as a baby could. According to the doctor, that was instinctive - something she would automatically do for a weeks before that instinct was lost. Percy preferred to think she really liked him. "I promised I would call her, and I really should soon." He twisted his grip to look at his watch face. It was almost 11 o'clock. So, around 8 for West coast. "I think you would like her. She's a good person - helped me through a few spots, but it's my turn to do the same for her right now. Also quite pret-"

Percy flushed. Probably wasn't the best time to gush over her looks. If ever - it was really too early to fall for someone else, as attractive as she was both in looks and personality. Gods, why was his heart like this? "She acts a bit funny - she's a bit uptight and formal, for one. I kinda wish she would call me Percy, though I don't really mind how she calls me Perseus …" He trailed off, wishing he could bang his head into a wall. But he was holding Daphne. "Her name's Luna, for the moon. Oh f- dam, you don't even know what the moon is. You have so much to learn …"

Percy twisted the chair so they faced outward, towards the window. "I'm not sure if you can see the moon from here. It's supposed to be full tonight, I think. It was full yesterday, at least. Oh, lucky us." He turned Daphne to face towards the upper right corner of the window. "There it is. It's supposed to be a chariot, though, drawn by deer. I've been on it once." Percy frowned to himself, even as Daphne reached out to the object in the sky. "That sounds dumb when I say it aloud. Like, I'm pretty sure the moon is a chunk of rock out in space. The moon landing wasn't faked, as much as those conspiracy theorists try to say. But I've sorta actually rode what was supposed to be the moon itself backwards through the sky …"

The demigod looked down to his sister, who was a bit more awake, staring out the window at the never fading city lights and the moon above. "I try not to think about it too much," Percy admitted. "I'm crazy enough as it is. Now just let me …"

Percy rearranged the blanket to set Daphne comfortably in his lap. He'd gotten two lectures about supporting her back and neck properly already from his parents - each. Damaging his sister's body was a no go, so he spent a minute longer than he really needed to make sure it was perfect. Then he freed his arm and gestured to a sink in the corner. The faucet dripped on, though no water reached the drain, let alone the steel of the sink. In a moment he had enough water, so he turned off the faucet and hovered the water closer. "Cool, right?" He smiled as Daphne reached out to touch the floating liquid. "I need that though - fine, fine, you can have some to play with."

He floated a chunk closer, sending the droplets swirling through Daphne's hand. In the meantime, he closed his eyes and focused on the rest. He flattened it into a disk, before twisting the plane into just the right angles that he memorized would make … Percy opened his eyes to a rainbow. A weak rainbow, faintly visible with the light of the moon, but the proper array of colors nonetheless. Wasn't the term a moonbow? Whatever. He sighed with relief, careful not to jostle his stepsister. He hadn't brought his emergency flashlight, but apparently the full moon was bright enough to do what he needed. Once the call was made, he could cheat with the Mist itself to establish the connection.

"Watch this," Percy whispered to his sister. "Fleecy, do me a solid and show me Luna." He fished out a drachma from inside his shoe (you did what you had to to store emergency supplies) and tossed it into the moonbow. Then he dissolved the water into Mist, the moonbow remaining despite its source disappearing. The Mist then shimmered into a screen of … static.

Daphne looked at him, disappointed. Or at least he felt she looked disappointed. Her face was a bit blank and confused. "Don't look at me like that," accused Percy. "I already get unlimited time by being friends with Fleecy. If that means waiting longer for the call to connect, I'll take it. Not to mention the person on the other end getting a bit more warning is nice."

Percy shuddered, remembering his call to Reyna. Thank the gods he hadn't seen anything she would gut him for. He looked back to Daphne, who was still staring intently at him. "Stop that. You're not even a day old yet and you're _already_ sassing me."

And then there was the loveliest giggle, floating like chimes in the wind. "Are you losing a battle of wits to someone who can't even speak?"

Fuck. Luna - because who else would it be? - was looking refreshed and far better than she had that morning, dressed in a simple white tee and knee-length leggings. She was outside, amongst a copse of trees, because apparently it wasn't cold outside at night on the West Coast. That had to be nice. For the first time, though, he was seeing her with her hair down instead of in a low ponytail. Auburn hair hanging free over her shoulders, face fresh and clear, she looked relaxed. She looked good.

Fuck.

Deep breath. "Well, if you think I'm losing, why don't you help me?"

Luna giggled again, hand covering her mouth to 'hide' her amusement. "I don't think so. Women need to stay together."

Percy pouted. "I thought we were friends."

At this, Luna raised an eyebrow, leaning back onto a tree. "I think we are friends. Are we not?"

Percy sighed unhappily. "Yes, we are. Can't you just let me have my fun?"

"Well, I'm certainly having fun, if at your expense." Luna smirked. "I can't let you win, after all."

Percy would have thrown his hands up into the air if it were not for Daphne in his arms. Even Daphne, who'd been temporarily distracted by the appearance of Luna, was now looking at him as if amused by his defeat. "Fine, fine! I get it. Now can we stop?"

Luna's smirk widened. "No."

Rolling his eyes, Percy shifted in his chair, re-adjusting how he held Daphne in order to hold her up and present her to Luna. "Anyway - meet your partner in crime, Daphne Blowfish." The infant squirmed in his grip. "Are you kidding me?" She wriggled some more. "Fine! Blofis. Daphne Blofis."

Luna's laugh filled the air again. "Nice to meet you, Daphne. You are so very beautiful, and I must say you have your brother handled very nicely."

"Is this pick on Percy day?" Percy said, setting Daphne upright in his lap.

"Not that I'm aware of," Luna answered. She pulled her hair to one side and began to braid it, already beginning to look more familiar and less 'what the fuck she looks different and she's gorgeous I'm so uncomfortable and nervous what do I do I don't want to be here.' Or something like that. "Last I understood, this is simply your everyday life."

"Hardeeharhar." That comment struck a little too close to home, even if he knew there was no intention to be hurtful. Memories of Nancy Bobofit and Sloan and too many others flashed into mind. "You got me. Laugh it all up."

At least Luna seemed truly better - even a lot more open than she used to be. This teasing was something new. Hopefully it was a sign of her being more comfortable with him, though that was unsurprising given how their last call had gone.

After that outpour, Percy certainly felt closer to her than before. It was difficult not to be, with her confessing her troubles and him just wanting to help her. He could almost feel his fatal flaw acting up.

"Nevertheless … Hello, Perseus. Whyever are you calling?"

"I think we've gone over this - I said I would. Did you think I wouldn't?"

Luna sent him an unreadable glance before looking down to Daphne and shrugging. "You have your priorities. I would not have been terribly surprised if you hadn't."

Percy frowned at her non-answer. "Daphne might already have me wrapped around her finger, but you are a priority of mine too, y'know."

That may have came out terribly wrong. But hey, Luna blushed. "I … thank you."

"For?" She was his friend, and that was that.

"For … caring," Luna said, looking forlornly off to the side. "Having met you during the Solstice, I would never have expected … well, any of this."

Percy cocked his head in confusion. He pat Daphne, who was shifting restlessly, to try and calm her down. "What do you mean?"

"You are doing your best to make me come out and say it, aren't you?" Luna said sardonically, her smile slipping from her face. "To your perspective, you have shared my company for little more than a few hours at most. We hardly know each other, I doubt many would qualify us as more than casual acquaintances. Yet you also have tried so very hard to … to help me this morning."

"Well-" Percy tried not to shrug and dismiss Luna's words - it was obvious this was hard for her to say. "Why else were we asking so many icebreakers? Since you were finally opening up to me and all," he half-heartedly teased. "But fair's fair, isn't it? You helped me, hardly knowing me at all right?"

Luna gave him a look - the look said she knew more than he did, the look that gods gave him when they wouldn't tell him something important. "I suppose. Even then, your nobility surprises me. I would have expected someone of your stature to be far less … approachable. Far more arrogant."

With Daphne appeased, Percy rubbed the back of his head. "Why would I be?"

Luna's look turned dry. "Oh, I wouldn't know. How many other heroes have defeated Medusa or the Minotaur? Or traversed the Labyrinth and the Sea of Monsters? Or struck down several Titans and several Giants, or for that matter, even survived the Underworld and fur-"

"Alright, alright! Jeez. Yes, I've been there, done that. Have you been researching up on me or something? You're creeping me out." Seriously, why did everyone seem to know what he did?

Luna blinked at him. Percy supposed for any other person that would have been outright gawking. "You do understand that the deeds you have performed combine and then _surpass_ those of the heroes of antiquity, do you not? Not even aware of your bloodline, you achieved what Theseus did - not mentioning defeating some of your other more monstrous siblings. You have achieved what the first Perseus did. You've traveled your own Odyssey, performed your own Labor, regularly visit and leave the Pluto's realm, rescued goddesses, defeated gods! As for what no other hero has ever done before - you've retrieved the divine weapons of the eldest gods, you've defeated Titans, Kr-Saturn himself, you've defeated multiple giants-"

Luna paused, panting as if surprised by her own vehemence. "How would I not have learned more about you? How would you not see that you are a legend? How - how do you not _act_ like one?"

Percy shifted in his seat, taken aback. Well didn't _he_ feel special, having broken up with the person he loved most and completely lost as to what he would major in in college and more awed that he was holding his baby sister than anything else in life so far. "What do you mean by act like one?"

Luna scowled at him, clearly frustrated by his discomfort and confusion. "Heroes are people who have performed heroic deeds, who have surpassed mankind. None of the other Seven can hold a candle to your achievements, not even Jason - yet here you are, the humblest of them all. A good person, rather than-"

Percy frowned. "Why wouldn't a hero be a good person?"

And then he remembered what Hercules was like. What Dionysus had told him about Theseus. The atrocities that Achilles did in the Trojan war. How cowardly Daedalus had been until he'd been convinced to act otherwise.

Luna scoffed. "Heroes being good people is a fantasy of modern times, of the imaginings in mortal stories. Their portrayals are unrealistic and one-dimensional, not seeing that for all their achievements, heroes have never been good - rarely even decent men, just _powerful_. Odysseus raided and pillaged cities, Hercules took advantage of others, Washington owned slaves-"

"And Harriet Tubman freed slaves, and John Lennon wrote great music," Percy interrupted, not understanding where Luna was going. "I mean heroes had faults, but not every single one of them were so terrible."

Luna's face twisted, and Percy tucked Daphne closer, half expected her to snarl at them. Well, he knew for sure the depressed Luna he met that morning was gone. "Those demigods were not heroes of the same magnitude - not heroes whose legacy will be remembered as grandiose in the mythological world! They did not defeat the Hydra or the Romans!"

"Could you calm down a bit? You might be scaring Daphne." His sister was staring wide-eyed at the half-yelling woman at the other end of the call.

Luna calmed. "My - my apologies. I just - I just don't _understand_."

Percy rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to find the right words to speak. "Is it really so hard to believe I could be a good person?" That almost hurt, even though he didn't think Luna meant that. "Like, I'm not perfect," - dumping Annabeth and avoiding every possible contact with her came to mind, but that was for the best for both of them, or forgetting Calypso but from what Father was telling him was that she was freed not too long ago and not to worry, or leaving Bob and Damasen in - in Tartarus, but - "I'm really not perfect. I have my faults, made so many mistakes, but I'm trying to be a good person, y'know. I have friends to watch out for, a baby sister to take care of, a future to work towards - why do you just want to assume that I'm an asshole or something?"

Luna wilted. "I - I don't know," she admitted. "It - it would fit with how I understood the world. It would make things easier for me. It would …"

She trailed off, and a heavy silence fell.

Percy was so very tired, completely emotionally exhausted. In between his conversation with Luna that morning and dealing with the birth of his sister, amplified by the resonating aftermath of his breakup … he was at a loss by now. He'd come into this conversation seeing if there was anything left he could say to Luna to make her feel better, not to find her absurdly peppy and almost asking him why he couldn't have been a worse person so she could dislike him.

Maybe he was too confused and tired for this, but that was certainly the impression he got.

Daphne cooed at Luna, bubbling and almost smiling.

Luna's guard fell, posture relaxing as she leaned forward, smiling softly at the newborn. "I suppose I've been a bit stupid, haven't I?"

"Um-"

"Shush. I'm talking to Daphne."

 _Are you fucking kidding me?_

Coo.

"Yes, I see what you mean. It's just … how it's always been. But thank you for helping me understand. Girls stick together after all, right?"

Coo.

Percy facepalmed. Christ almighty help him, because Greek mythology certainly wasn't. He let Luna have her fun for a few moments longer before speaking up. "Look, I hate to break up the party and all, but … how are you?"

Mollified, Luna straightened, the good-nature of their discussion fading away. "I am as I will be, I suppose. The dead rest, and we move on."

"That's good … I think?"

Coo. Percy pulled Daphne back, coddling her as a parent would. "I'm here to talk with as needed. I just feel you recovered a little … fast."

Luna shook her head, though her tone was wistful. "As much as I leave behind … it is for the best. It is … unfortunate, but the impact of my friend's death is closer to shock than loss."

Um. Percy considered his response. "What do you mean?"

Luna frowned as she searched for the words to explain what she meant. "New Rome is a … small city. You grow up knowing everyone, knowing everyone around your age and calling all of them friends. But growing up … I lost touch with them. They were still my friends, but it was as if panels of glass had been erected between us."

"Because they joined the legion and you didn't?" Percy asked.

Luna shrugged. "Not … not quite. I knew them, spent some time with them. It might be different for you and me. I grew up expecting some of them to … perish. I grew up in this world. You didn't. I am not quite aware of Camp Half-Blood's mortality rate per year, but for New Rome, even in this modern day, it's perhaps a dozen or so? it's not … strange, if that euphemism serves well enough."

"Well …" Camp Half Blood had a much smaller population compared to the Legion, not even considering New Rome. Fewer deaths in proportion were logical, but there were next to none. Capture the Flag and molten rock climbing was generally safer than the Legion's constant war games, not to mention Chiron and Apollo kids always being on hand.

Outside Camp, though? Plenty of demigods had filtered out of Camp, year to year. He'd thought that they'd joined Kronos. That fact by itself didn't speak well for their fates - especially because he never really did know what happened to all the demigods he'd faced before, except for Ethan and Luke. He didn't want to know. And how many of those demigods, maybe instead of joining Kronos, had simply died to a monster attack during the school year?

Fellow campers dying on quests hadn't really happened - but that was only because of how things were when Percy showed up. A ban on quests since Luke's screw-up, then Percy being involved in every single one after that. In those, only Bianca died. Only Zöe died. Before him, how many demigods died during their quests?

He didn't even want to think about the Battle of the Labyrinth. Or the Defense of Manhattan. "I honestly don't know. Most of my friends died during-"

"The war." Luna finished. "It … it was the same for me. It wasn't until my group of friends was whittled down around me that things changed. It hurt so much at that time, the first war. Even having lost touch, I was still close enough that I almost lost myself. My … my closest friend, the one that truly kept me involved with everyone, died."

Even Daphne kept silent. After a moment, Percy said, "I'm sorry."

Luna grimaced. "I don't want to pity her. She was worthy of the stars … but she's gone. The others are gone." Gazing off into the distance, forlorn and colorless, she looked like a portrait. "The new friends I tried to make after are gone, in the second war that should have been obvious. At this point, as much as I leave behind … I move on."

She turned back to him, her silvery eyes locked on his, intense and focused. "To new things."

"So …" Percy hesitated. "So you're better."

"Perhaps," Luna answered, almost shrugging. "You were right. I can … I can do nothing for them. Either I hold onto my regrets for all time, or … or I wish them the best. There is no solace to be found pining for them. That is only to be found in the world of the living."

She gave him a meaningful look, as if-

Oh.

 _Oh._

Percy tried to hide his blush. "Ah. I mean, hugs are great and all, right?"

A hint of a smirk played at Luna's lips. "And if I want to take you up on your offer?"

Fuck.

Percy tried to play it off, to turn the conversation on Luna. That was how his plans generally worked anyway. Against all odds, bluff your way out. "I said I would, and that's as good as a promise. But do you want to?"

Given the change in color in Luna's cheeks, Percy would say he succeeded.

Suddenly all too flustered, Luna shied away. "Um. Heh. It would certainly be welcome, and-"

"I'll take that as a yes."

Daphne cooed. Luna giggled, muted and nervous but happy.

Percy smiled, holding his sister just a little tighter.

Things were looking up.

* * *

 _Happy accident._

* * *

 _Author's Note_

Tonight—or tomorrow morning, rather, of the 31st, will be the full moon. A blue moon, a supermoon (third in a row), and a lunar eclipse. Something quite special, in other words. Slow down, take a look. I wouldn't be writing without it.


	7. amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus

" _But groundless hope, like unconditional love, is the only kind worth having." John Perry Barlow_

* * *

It's a terrible thing.

 _Falling in love._

Falling in love is losing yourself.

 _It's losing yourself to an obsession_.

You find someone new. You meet someone beautiful, someone you can't help but see every wonder in.

 _They take up your every moment of attention because they're a storm._

Everything changes, refocuses around them.

 _Your old life is swept up and tossed about, leaving only the foundations and what's most desperate._

But you want this person in your life.

 _You want them._

Because they make you happy.

 _You need more._

… do you want to make them happy?

* * *

"Heya there."

"Hello, Perseus. How are you?"

"Living through life like usual. Finished with homework, so thought I'd call. How 'bout you?"

"I've … also been doing as I always have. Things have changed so very much, though, so I suppose I've been looking for new things to do as well."

"Hm? Like what?"

"… I've been going through some new literature as of late. Dystopian fiction has been returning to popularity, for one."

"Still books? I thought you meant something _besides_ the library."

"Well, it's not as if there's that much do in New Rome. Last I checked, there's only politics, school, the market, and the war games."

"Huh. I honestly remember New Rome a bit bigger than that. Nothing more to do? There's worshipping the gods, I guess? You guys do have your big temples, all we do is throw some of our dinner into the fire."

"Ah. Well, yes, there is that. I forgot."

"You forgot? Luna, how do you _forget_? Isn't New Rome the only totally mythological city?"

"What?"

"I mean, like the only city full of people that know about the gods and stuff. You guys do have your big temples everywhere, I thought there'd be more worship."

"I … guess? It's not something I've really paid attention to, to be quite frank with you …"

"… Eh. It's not as if worshipping the gods is the sorta thing you'd devote your free time to nowadays."

"Neither was it like that in the old days, even if the mortals did live their lives around the gods back in Ancient Greece."

"And Rome."

"And Rome. All their stories, their ideas, their way of life, revolved around the gods, maybe. Because for almost everything, they would perform a ritual or a sacrifice. Whatever one devoted themselves to had some god that represented that aspect of life."

"Yeah, but that was back then. Nowadays, though? I mean, basically no mortals believe in the Greek gods. I guess it's enough just to keep telling the stories that the gods don't fade, but there's a lot more to mortal life than just what involves the gods."

"… Yes. It is certainly different than before. But the point is that neither the Ancient Greeks nor Romans really worshipped gods in the same sense that prevalent modern monotheism does."

"Really? I thought it would be different in Rome because of all the big fat temples."

"Not overly so. Honestly, the more interesting part for me is the change in culture since that time period. All the stories used to be about myths and gods and fairy tales, anthropomorphized nature. But sometime in the past few centuries, storytelling has drifted away from that … to stories that don't include gods at all."

"Never thought about it that way. I did grow up outside of all this, though. To me, it was a lot closer to stories coming to life than me being part of the story the whole time. But you were born in New Rome, weren't you? You've lived there your whole life, knowing about all of it."

"I … I was born into the mythological world, yes. Different perspectives."

"Like, besides last Solstice, have you been out of New Rome much? I never left New York until I was twelve—until I learned I was a demigod."

"When you retrieved the Master Bolt."

"Yeah. Then. Man, looking back on it, I was such an idiot."

"To be fair, you'd just enterred this world."

"I guess. I knew enough about the big stuff, and luckily … luckily I had Annabeth to fill me in on everything. For the most part."

"Well, I have been around the West Coast. The East Coast was considered bad luck for Romans until recently, though. Nor were they ever invited to Olympus until now."

"Glad that changed, then. Else would've never met you, right, Moonbeam?"

"I- why do you insist on calling me that?"

"What? You don't give or have nicknames?"

"I have no particular _preference_ , but I must profess it odd—"

"Well, besides your name, I can hardly call you Sparkplug or the other things I call Thalia—daughter of Zeus, Hunter of Artemis, by the way—it's just not the same."

"I know who- Perseus, I'm hardly going to call you by something based off some half-derogatory aspect of your parentage!"

"Or you could just call me Percy. I mean, seriously. I think only the people trying to kill me have really called me Perseus all the time."

"… That's—um …"

"Do what you want, really, I'm just saying. Do you _not_ want me to …?"

"It's fine. Just … strange."

"How? It fits perfectly if you ask me. The way you shine~"

 _Blush._ "Thank … thank you."

"No problem. Hm? Oh. Mom's calling, dinner's waiting. Call again soon?"

"I would enjoy that."

"Bye, Luna."

" _Antío_ , Perseus."

* * *

You remember their every word.

 _And something's off._

You remember how they make you feel.

 _And somehow, somewhere, you feel as if you're deceived._

You remember how they make the world light up, how they make colors more vivid and smells more sweet and sounds more bright, how every sensation intensifies and magnifies.

 _But surely, surely what's happening is real, is true and genuine._

It hangs in your mind, like a dream.

 _With every grand moment, there are the little discrepancies in the words they say, in the way they act, are there._

In night and in day, in every moment, they're on your mind.

 _Because you feel like you should know something._

It's a tortured blessing.

 _It's a blessed torture._

How do they do it?

* * *

"Whoa! Hey Luna. Say hi, Daph. Or not."

"She's a bit busy, is she not? I thought I would call. Is this a bad time?"

"Oh, no, it's alright. I'm sure she would love to say hi if she could."

"I couldn't tell."

"Shush, you. The bottle's just about done, anyways. Just gotta make sure she doesn't throw it all back up into my face now."

"That would be quite the sight."

"And thank the gods you didn't see it happen."

" _urp_."

"That was quick."

"Well, sure, but it's probably not all of it so I'm just going to keep doing this for another ten minutes."

"That long?"

"No, I'm not going to let sick get on me."

"I'm merely asking. I can't remember the last time I dealt with a baby."

"No siblings, no daycare, no nothing?"

"Not quite. I have done so before. It's a feeling, vaguely there in my memory … but …"

"It's something different when you're older?"

"Yes?"

"I gotta say I hope I wasn't this much of a mess to take care of, but if anything I was probably worse."

"I can't disagree with that."

" _urp."_

"Why is that noise so endearing?"

"Yep, she's pretty damn cute. So how are things?"

"My mind has been wandering as of late, so I thought I would check up on you."

"Oh. Well, I was doing a bit of memorization while feeding Daphne before you called. The paper is … just over there. I gotta recite a poem for English class. I finished most of math, though there's still a few questions-"

"And what is that poem?"

"Nah. No spoilers. Maybe when I have it memorized I'll recite it for you. For now it's just a pain in the a- in the butt with dyslexia and all. On that note, I never did ask—do you have dyslexia? You read a _lot,_ so …"

"I do not."

"So maybe that's why you enjoy reading so much more. While I do like some of the books I have to read, I honestly don't know if I'll even bother to keep reading books when I no longer have to. It's just such a slow process to get the letters to stop dancing."

"Did you ever try the medication for ADHD and dyslexia?"

"Not really. I think Mom tried when I was a lot younger, but it isn't exactly cheap. At this point I don't want to screw with my reflexes, so … yeah."

"Ah. Reasonable."

"Yeah. So anyways, reading not being my strong suit and all. Kinda funny now that Mom's a writer and my stepdad is an English teacher. But I'd like to think I'm not a terrible student—been fighting for As and Bs for a while now—but probably going to avoid lots of reading if I can. I'm kinda lost as to what I would do, though, in the future."

"What do you mean?"

"Y'know. Major and everything. What I would do for a living. I don't get how all those other demigods knew how to make a living outside of the mythological world, I don't even know what I might do. Maybe a marine scientist?"

"Well, that fits the theme … you truly don't know?"

"Do _you_ know?"

"… No, no I don't. I haven't really thought much about the future."

—" _urp."_ —

"To be quite frank, I've mostly only had short-term goals, living more in the moment. I never thought much about a future occupation …"

"Maybe you could be a writer. Put all that reading to good use."

"Perhaps."

"Food for thought. I gotta go, though, sorry. Homework and all, y'know. Thanks for calling and all, it was great talking with you!"

 _I'll miss you._

"… Yes, it was indeed. Call again soon?"

"Definitely. See ya, Moonbeam."

"Bye, Perseus."

* * *

You watch their every move.

 _They aren't who they pretend to be._

You wonder their every intention.

 _If so, then what do they want?_

You catch things that they may not have meant.

 _Did they mean something beyond face value, beyond what was obvious?_

You hope they don't mean those things, that you're insane, that you're wrong about those little details you're not sure that they meant or not.

 _You can't just accuse someone outright. For all you know, you're just overthinking things._

Are you a lunatic for thinking things this way?

* * *

"Hello, Perseus. What's the occasion?"

"What? Oh, just graduation. Didn't I tell you, like, two days ago?"

"I expected that you would be out, though. Partying and celebrating."

"Why?"

"Isn't that the standard fare?"

"Graduation was pretty anticlimactic. I mean, sure, end of my teenage years and all. I'm free, sorta. It almost feels like 'so what?' Why even bother with the party?"

"Didn't you go to the prom last week? Why not attend any function now?"

"Sure I went to the prom, but that was more a for the experience thing, and Mom telling me that I should go, even if stag. But it was still boring as hell. I don't even remember who was named king or queen. And then, now—who would I hang out with? Sure I have a couple acquaintances, but all my friends are from camp, not school."

"Really?"

"Besides my … track record for school disasters, it's not like I've ever really gotten to know people at school, except for like three people who ended up being a satyr, a cyclops, and an Oracle. Or the ones that turned out to be bullies or monsters. And my disappearance last year didn't help any. I don't really know anyone around here."

"I assumed some other campers attended your high school, though."

"Who? Most don't live in New York. The ones that do just live in camp. I don't even know if Jason's ever been to an honest to gods K-12 school, and apparently Piper's dad is all ok with her getting whatever schooling she gets at camp. And …"

 _Annabeth was off and about with her apprenticeship for who knew how long now._

"Sometimes a few people from camp drop by and a few weekends I head over there. And there's always all the IMs."

"Case in point. So you called me."

"Why not?"

"I appreciate it. A bit more unexpected than the usual, but … you have something you want to say?"

"I was wondering—I know you're basically homeschooled and all that, but did you go to the Roman parties and celebrations often much?"

"From time to time … life and learning works very differently in New Rome. It's not as if the legionaries have much time for standard study, so there tends to be a few more years spent in college to catch up on all the mortal schooling that they need."

"Huh. So I'll be ahead of everyone else when I get there?"

"As far as I know, most don't care too much for college. The education is great and all, but New Rome is rather insular and higher level learning is not strictly necessary for whatever lives they end up leading in the city."

"Never thought of it that way … wait, who even teaches at the college?"

"Mostly Lares. But the New Rome College is technically just a subset of UC Berkeley, so …"

"Wow. I did not know that."

"A lot of the catchup and general classes are taught in New Rome for the first few years, but if you ever want to really specialize it's not much to travel to UC Berkeley. Not many do, but some."

"The information I got when I applying didn't talk about any of this."

"Why would they? It's not like people outside of New Rome have gone there to learn before. Most demigods tend to just go into family business too, or know all about it."

"Well. Thanks, Luna. For the info."

"I did my research."

"You did your research, but you still don't know what you want to do?"

"Your meaning being?"

"Future major or job? I remember you mentioning you plan on attending?"

"Ah. Nothing specific yet. There's much to be said about not deciding too soon. I suppose you'll be living in the city, then, next year?"

"Of course. I might want to visit everyone else—gotta see how Julie's doing—but I would love to hang out more in person. Who knows, we could maybe even go to a few parties."

"Right. We have a good track record for that."

"There's only been the one time."

"Are you suggesting …?"

"Well, are the Romans going to come back for the Summer Solstice?"

"I would imagine so."

"No reason not to meet up, right?"

"Ah … perhaps … I think-"

"I mean, no pressure if you don't want to-"

"No! No, it's fine. Sure. Meet up at the Solstice."

"Oh. Great!"

"Is there … anything else you planned to discuss?"

"Hah! Good joke, me and _plans_."

"Is that how it is? Goodbye then, Percy."

"Wait! Hey hey hey, Fleecy's already cutting me a fantastic deal with giving me unlimited call time, you don't want to take advantage of that?"

"Is that truly something to be so proud of? From how I understand it, the previous payment model was absolutely horrendous."

"Um. Fair point. But that's all the more reason to keep up with the call, no? I'm done with all I have to do for months, right now. Unless you have something more important?

"… Nothing I can't put off."

"Is that a no?"

 _*Sigh* …_ "Just thoughts on the mind, Perseus. Nothing that can't wait."

She smiled. It as a little resigned. Extremely calm, serene … almost forced? Still genuinely happy. Her beautiful, radiant silver eyes were focused, intense, _devouring_.

* * *

Because surely things aren't going where you imagine. Surely you're not hoping too much.

 _Why do you like her so much, even beneath the pretenses?_

Surely things aren't going this well. Surely you're not ignoring faults glaring you in the face.

 _Is it something about you or about them? Or both?_

Because you're in love.

* * *

It was a good day to be at the beach.

It was almost noon, but still a bit early in the summer, still a bit cold, so other beachgoers were relatively few and far between.

To be back at Montauk … such memories, good and bad. All in the past.

This particular shoreline, more so than others, was a second home for Percy. Though at this point, that was almost a lot of places. Camp Half Blood, for one. Or the sea in general. Almost Camp Jupiter, at second sight.

It was such a surreal disconnect, just walking the shores, watching the waves. He'd had a good fill of playing with Daphne in the sand before leaving the same rented cabin to just wander.

Maybe it was a part of living in apartments and having moved around so much, but even their current apartment felt like a second home.

There just didn't seem to be a place that he truly, fully belonged to. Percy lived in two worlds, and as much as he wanted a life outside of mythological … that was boring. He didn't fit in. He couldn't make friends with mortals, because that inevitably ended with hiding half of his identity.

But he didn't want to dedicate his life to the mythological world either.

And now he was pulling up his roots to move across the country for college.

Life was changing around him, dragging him along in its tide. And he had no idea where it was going.

Was that better or worse than a definitive fate?

In a way, Montauk was the bridge between his mortal and mythological lives. It was where he'd grown up, knowing but not knowing he was seeing women in the water. It was where his journey truly started, not including Mrs. Dodds. And here, now … it was where a major phase was not quite ending, but branching off.

A week into summer, and he'd yet to return to Camp Half Blood. Whether Annabeth was there or still off wherever in her apprenticeship, he didn't know. It wasn't why he hadn't gone back yet.

He just didn't feel the need to. He wanted to, sorta. But not enough.

There was something about growing past the teenager phase that invoked the existentialist in him.

Life was life. He existed with it, acting with and against it. But why? What did he want?

He didn't want a normal life. Not anymore. That had been a naive wish of a younger self, one whose life and friends and desires had yet to be wrapped around the mythological. Wanting a normal life was rejecting a part of him.

That was why Percy liked the idea of college in Camp Jupiter so much. It was a mix of both. It represented a future that he could share with his beloved …

A glint of light caught his eye, and Percy bent over to inspect it. A piece of sea glass, turquoise and smooth, twinkled at him. He'd seen a few other flecks of glass on his trek—his ocean sense helped pick out foreign silica from the sands—but this was the first of a respectable size, and to his knowledge, a rare color. There'd been a few decent greens that he hadn't bothered with because they were so common, but just maybe …

This was a good spot to take a break. No one around, more time in the world than he'd thought he'd ever would get.

Percy slipped to the ground, facing out to the sea and sitting in the edge of the rising tide. He basked in the light of day, leaning back … the water bubbled along his feet, the seat of his pants, his hands … then drew back once more.

He stayed dry, not letting the water truly touch him. He didn't want a sudden burst of energy to interrupt his musing.

Percy wanted his family and friends to be happy and healthy, first and forever foremost. But did that make him happy, or was it just something he fundamentally needed?

It certainly helped. But in a time of peace, just like the brief breath of air after defeating Kronos … things changed.

That was just life.

He wasn't really planning on any desk job crap. He couldn't really see himself as constantly working as a store employee like his mom did either, especially given all the nuances of that situation.

But … that wasn't the point. He didn't care that much _what_ he did in the future so much as who he spent his life with.

College didn't have to be a big stepping stone to whatever career he wanted. Maybe just treating learning as an end rather than a means sounded more appealing than all the rest of school he'd already attended, even Goode.

It probably helped a lot that tuition and room and board were essentially free and that he probably could just work as a combat instructor for years to come if nothing else.

But Luna was right. It was a bit soon to decide everything just yet.

Just the thought of it, though—who did he want to spend the rest of his life with? His friends, obviously. But beyond that?

Annabeth …? She wanted to change the world, in her own way. And as much as he loved her … he didn't want to hold her back.

A familiar fuzzy screen wisped into existence beside him. "Perseus?"

"Hey there Moonbeam." Percy slunk down further sifting through the wet-into-dry sand. He turned towards the Iris message, putting his weight on his arm. "How ya doing?"

"Well, thank you. How is your beach trip?" Luna asked.

"Great. I think Daphne loves it, everyone else is just trying to relax. How's summer going for you?"

"As well as the usual. I'm mostly just anticipating events to come."

"Oh? Got something special planned this summer you haven't told me about?"

"What? I'm talking about our date-" She blushed, hiding her face and clamming up instantly.

Percy blinked. "I- you mean? Alright."

"Alright?" Luna looked up hesitantly, still mortified. "Just … ok? Alright?"

Percy shrugged, a bit of a smile on his face. "I don't mind."

And her smile, so shy and so honest, warmed him far more than the sun ever would. "I'm- I- I need to go. Thank you, it's just- bye, Percy."

Her flustered face vanished, leaving Percy alone with his thoughts.

Hm. A date. What to wear, what to bring, what to _say_.

"I'll call you tonight," he promised the sea, in Luna's absence.

He pocketed the sea-forged jewel, thoughts of Luna still on his mind.

With renewed vigor and motivation, he rose, off to hunt more sea glass.

* * *

 _But_ —but _but_ but _but_ but— _do you truly,_ truly _truly_ truly … do you truly love them?

 _Time to find out._

* * *

 _Love is rich with both honey and venom._


End file.
